


Enchanted Endeavours

by Heavydirtys0ul



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Literally just porn and magic, M/M, Multi, Other, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2021-04-08
Packaged: 2021-04-17 13:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavydirtys0ul/pseuds/Heavydirtys0ul
Summary: A collection of supernatural stories; ghosts, vampires, faeries, nymphs, half-humans and more!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton/Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Comments: 56
Kudos: 185





	1. Away with the Faeries

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Dub-con, technically kidnapping ?, enchantment/mind control, orgies. Orgasm denial/delay. Mind...manipulation?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton has been wandering through the woods for too many hours, and gets a series of interesting surprises as a result.

Patton was only trying to find his way through the forest, he'd been walking for a while now and the sun was beginning to set. For the most part he was starting to wonder if something didn't _want_ him to get out of this place today; usually it takes him maybe two hours to get from one end to the other, although he had left a little later than he had initially planned. He tilts his head back and can see that the sky is purple and pink above the canopy of leaves, a sign that there is very little light about to be left. He takes a deep breath and tries not to be nervous, looking behind him before continuing forward.

The trees rustle above him, the sound of leaves crunching under his feet startling him more than it should. He jumps as a twig snaps below the pressure of his feet and then sighs a little shakily. Patton closes his eyes, just for a moment. The wind brushes over his freckled cheeks, catching his sandy golden curls and brushing them out of his face; he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. He's been in these woods many times before and been perfectly _fine_, something about them has always been so distinctively enchanting that he can never quite stay away for long. Mostly, the young man puts it down to his love for the natural world, although this time it feels like the natural world has a mind of its own.

Then he opened his eyes, staring around him at a place that seems to have been long since deserted by anything but the trees, the moss, the plants and the dirt. That is what he tells himself as he starts to press forward again, until he hears something that is so unmistakably a giggle that he feels his skin crawl over his bones as though trying to escape as much as he wishes he could. "You look a little lost," He can feel something, someone, stood right behind him. Patton thinks it must be impossible, there had been not even the slightest sound bar the rustle of the wind in the trees; yet there is someone stood right behind him. He can feel their breath when they speak, making all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "Oh don't worry little one," There's a smirk in that voice "I won't harm you, at least not in a way you won't enjoy," 

Patton turns, what else is there for him to do really? He turns and stares and then wishes he hadn't. These woods are certainly enchanting and he had always known this to be true. But when he sees the face that stares back with their bright red eyes and sharp smile, Patton knows, oh he _knows,_ too well and not well enough, that these woods are more enchanting than he had first wanted them to be. "There's a dance," The creature smiles, their hair the colour of autumn in oranges and reds, they are beautiful but the human knows he should not be falling for such a facade. "You should come with me,"

"I..." The words capture in his throat, and a hand extends, palm faced upward as if asking him to take it. He does so, and the red-eyed _thing_ brings their free hand to his face, fingers resting under Patton's chin before their thumb presses gently to his lips. 

"Sh," The words are said like a spell intended to be cast, but that isn't what keeps Patton quiet, no it's the way they lean forward-movements so fluid they may as well have been one with the wind-and press the softest, most gentle of kisses to Patton's lips. "Come with me, and you will be happy, I promise, the happiest you've ever been, you like the forest don't you?" The human nods numbly, blue eyes wide as he agrees with the ethereal creature, lips tingling from the kiss. "My name is Roman, what's yours?"

"Patton," He feels his heart sink in his chest as he realises what he's said what he's done, and when Roman grins he cannot tell if that was a good or bad decision. The hand does not move from his, it remains gentle and a comforting weight against his own; this doesn't cease the way his heart hammers in his chest as he gets the sinking feeling he will never see the outside of these forests again. 

"Relax, Patton," And he does. His heart beat slows, his breathing evens smoothly and he finds himself taking a step forward "Come with me, I will not hurt you," _Not in a way you won't enjoy, _Patton recalls him saying earlier, he also doesn't know if 'he' is a 'him,' but he also doesn't know how to ask as he finds himself being led by the hand through the trees, the swish of Roman's skirt reminding him of the way the breeze blows. The young man has no idea what is happening now what is to happen, but he does know, somehow, that Roman will not and cannot lie.

"Will I ever leave?" Patton finally asked, after a long silence. 

"You will, _eventually,_" The sound of music fills his ears, he can hear...instruments, singing, the smell of chestnuts roasting on a fire and the faintest and loveliest scent of herbs burning. He can see colour through the trees, hear people chattering amongst themselves, and then as they draw closer the sound of Roman's name being called. Roman leads him into a clearing, full of people...or whatever it is that Roman's kind is called with their pointed ears and sharp teeth and strange marks on their skin. There's so much gold too, Patton only notices now that Roman's hand and ears and _face_ are dripping in jewellery. He doesn't know how he didn't notice.

Or well, he does, but he doesn't want to think too hard about the fact that his mind feels like a small fog at the moment, lest it causes said fog to become increasingly worse.

Three figures approach them. The first, tall, at least twice Patton's size although that's no great achievement considering he hasn't grown in about five years and remains at 5"2, a curse of his genetics. This first stranger has black hair, purple eyes and skin that is so pale that the blue veins underneath are fully visible. The second, thin but not particularly tall, has almost inky eyes that stare calculatedly at Patton, almost like he's trying to see straight into his soul (Patton isn't entirely sure this creature _can't_ do this). Then the last, the most noticeable. His eyes are like a snake's, golden and bright, his skin heavily freckled and when he smiles the human can see that his tongue is not quite right, it forks around his teeth.

"You've brought a human," The second speaks informatively, stating the obvious, but there is no missing the way his lips twitch and his eyes gleam like he's looking at a meal. He raises his hand in the same way Roman had, his fingers longer and thinner with sharper nails that graze lightly against Patton's skin. He doesn't know why he has the immediate urge to bare his neck, or why he can't look away from those dark eyes that look, literally, like a galaxy the more he stares into them. "Can I taste him?" He stands in front of Patton, staring down at him with a small smile. Roman gives a small nod and it's not until he lets go of Patton's hand that he even realises they were both still holding hands. 

The dark-eyed creature (although Patton is inclined to start referring to them as men, he isn't sure how he knows because their idea of gender doesn't seem as form-fitted as his own, but somehow he just _does_), leans down and kisses him as Roman had. He tastes like fruit and berries and his lips linger much longer, almost like he's searching for something in the gentle but long kiss. As he pulls away, he grins, teeth sharp and shining in the lowering light. "My name is Logan," His tongue darts out against his lips as if collecting the aftertaste of Patton's lips. "You will do nicely," The young man doesn't know what he'll do nicely for, and finally finds he can properly look around him.

"Wh...Why am I here?" He asks, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. 

"It's a party," Roman muses "And you are the dessert," Patton's heart jolts "Not in that sort of way, we're not going to eat you," The way he smiles and his eyes shimmer with an almost boyish mischief, somehow alleviates the panic. "Believe me, you will enjoy it," Patton nods, he believes it too when it's spoken to him in such a way, although he watches warily as the tall one and the one with snake eyes draw a little closer, studying him for a second.

"I can practically taste him from here," The tall one growls, clearly looking antsy, his eyes as hungry as a wolf's seconds before it capture it's prey and tears into them.

_"Virgil,"_ Logan's warning tone comes, shaking his head "Wait a little while, let the poor boy settle in, look at him, he's famished and dehydrated, he'll need his energy, Dee, accompany him," The tall one-Virgil-nods and bows his head slightly before he turns and begins to walk into the crowds of people, pursued by the snake-eyed one, presumably Dee; in some cases of the crowd, Patton can't tell where one person starts and another ends, some wrapped in more than passionate embraces that have his cheeks flushing. When he looks back, Logan is still regarding him with a studious and too calm look. "How old are you?"

"23,"

This gets a raised eyebrow and Patton can feel the way their eyes study not just his face but his entire body. "23? I see," he gestures loosely with his hand before sighing and shaking his head "Nevertheless, you're perfect for these celebrations, come and sit down and we will talk, I know Roman's habits enough to know that he flustered you and dragged you here, but you should certainly know what is going to happen to you, although I'm quite afraid you have no choice in the matter, I quite promise that you will not want to leave," Patton does not like the sound of that, but then he feels Roman's hand in his and hears that soft giggle again and finds it brings him no fear. Logan rolls his eyes and gives Roman a disapproving look. "What is your name?"

"Patton,"

"Good, do yourself a favour and don't tell anyone else bar the four of us that, we only have one intention for you and then you are free to leave, not everyone here is as kind," He gestures to the ground and Patton sits at the foot of the tree, Logan and Roman sit opposite him. His mind is starting to feel a little less hazy yet the panic does not return, for the most part he feels soothed like he'd just had a nice cup of tea. "Roman's job is to scout for people like you, he has some particular talents that suit him for the job,"

"Is that why my head feels like hot chocolate?" Patton asked, his speech a little soft around the edges, the way someone who has smoked far too much might be. Roman giggles again, and Logan gives a small smile and the slightest of nods.

"Quite, Roman is an empath for starters, and secondly very good with controlling emotions although not so much controlling his own," The man looks to Roman with an affectionate look of annoyance. Patton can tell that the two, perhaps the four, are very much in love and by the way Roman leans his head to Logan's shoulder and nuzzles his neck this is very much confirmed to him. "Virgil is...antsy at the moment, he tends to get hungrier than the rest of us might he was born with an overactive metabolism for feeding, in which case Dee is essentially the only person with a grip on him, he was born with particular psychic abilities that allows him to poke and prod at parts of someone's mind, shutting down some elements and...alighting others,"

"And you?"

"I make sure these idiots don't get themselves killed," Logan replies with amusement in his tone "I can see every part of someone's mind just by looking at them, whilst Roman tends to see in colours that evoke emotion, I can see the coding behind it if you like, the patterns, the thoughts, the things people have forgotten and will never remember, and the things they are thinking in the present," Patton nods mutely because honestly he doesn't really know what to say to that. Logan smiles like he doesn't have to say very much at all. "As to why you are here well, as I said Roman's job is to scout for people like you, generally they're a little more resistant to the general effects he has, which tells us that you are at least curious as to why there is an entire species that you have never seen before in the forest that you've walked through since you were a child," He nods in agreement with Logan's words although he isn't entirely certain which part he's agreeing with. "We cannot lie to you, and somehow I doubt you are enough of a threat to even dodge the truth with, so we are the Fae, and these woods are where we live but we're very good at not getting noticed when we don't want to be,"

"But...what do you need me for?"

"Humans have a very specific type of energy that is attractive to us but we try to restrain ourselves from simply kidnapping people when we need them, after all that would certainly lead to us not being so inconspicuous," Logan smiles a little, it isn't an unkind nor a kind smile, but the sort of smile that makes Patton understand that whatever he's in for, it's not going to be something that he would do regularly, and he isn't sure if he's going to like it. "Faeries are innately energetic beings, we live off of energy, and every now and then we get this special sort of energy that comes our way," Roman sighs as though telling his calmer counterpart to hurry up "Sexual energy, and you are basically a living hive for it,"

Patton blushes before he does anything else. "Oh," He mutters, a little dumbly as he leans back against the tree and ignores the way his heart hammers in his chest almost as though desperate to escape. "I think you might have the wrong person I'm not...I've never..." He stumbles over his words, blue eyes no longer able to meet the inky tone of the Faeries in front of him as he brings his knees to his chest. "I wouldn't really describe myself as a hive of sexual energy," He whispered, embarrassed "I've never had sex,"

"Well, exactly," Roman chuckles, shifting over to rest his head affectionally on the human's shoulder, his lips brushing against Patton's jaw "That's exactly what makes you a hive for it, all that curiosity and need and desperation, I can practically taste it," His tongue darts out against Patton's jaw, before he pulls away with a clearly hyperactive look on his face. "There's so much you want and so much you don't know and so much you know but have never had, it lingers here," He brings his fingertips to Patton's forehead and closes his eyes "So much colour," 

"Roman, behave," Logan interjects, the same warning tone he'd used on Virgil. "Whilst you are here you are to stay with us, whilst we are willing to let you go not everyone here will be and remember, do not give _anything_ your name who isn't us," Patton nods, because once again what else is there to do? He cannot leave, and he is scared, afraid but...not the sort of fear that makes him want to leave in the first place. It's a nervous fear, the fear of having your first kiss or sitting down to do an important test, not the sort of fear in which you are afraid for your life. Although he knows his life _is_ in danger here.

Virgil returns with food and water, he places them at Patton's feet then sits cross legged opposite him, watching with those violet eyes like an eerie hawk. Patton stares back as he sips at whatever is in this bowl. Then he places the bowl down, and swallows nervously. They're all watching him a little too closely and he wraps his arms back around his knees as though that would somehow protect him. Roman nuzzles his nose against Patton's neck like he's trying to coax him from his shell "It's okay Patton, we're not going to hurt you," He mutters against his skin "You smell so nice," Then suddenly he nips at his skin; Patton feels the sharp inhale he makes in response and he can feel Roman's grin even more so. "You taste just as nice,"

The human knows before it happens what is about to happen, he doesn't know if Roman can help it but his brain starts to feel like fog once more, before he finds lips pressed to his own; slowly at first as they explore how they can relax the man, then the faery tongue brushes against his own and Patton feels a warm feeling roll through his body like waves onto the shore, and he pushes forward to feel it again. He hears Roman's giggle, feels a hand on his chest, pushing him down. He never imagined what lying in the grass would feel like but it's certainly more comfortable than he would've guessed. 

Roman takes his hand in his own, his gentle but calloused fingertips running over his knuckles, guiding his hands to the faery's thighs, pushing up the skirt at he does so. Then he pulls back and Patton's lips are claimed by another, whose nimble fingers run through his curls and tug just enough to have him gasping into their warm mouth. He feels a forked tongue flick against his teeth and finds he has never moaned quite so loudly or desperately in his life. Roman's thighs squeeze against his own, and Patton can't help the crash of arousal that has him feeling dizzy with need and want, so suddenly that it's like a quite literal fire stirring in the pit of his stomach. 

"My turn," Dee pulls away to make room for the source of that deep, growling voice, and Patton finds he has no resistance a Virgil leans down and kisses him like he's desperate to steal the air straight from his lungs into his own body. The faery moans against his lips, teeth sinking down against Patton's bottom lip. He can feel hands pushing his sweater up then a mouth against his skin and it's all so much. There's so many sensations occurring at once, a weight against his crotch shifting and teeth and lips against his ribs and stomach, a mouth over his own, hands tugging at his hair. Nails scrape against his stomach and Roman grinds down against his cock, which is by now hard and trapped under the other, providing constant stimulation in the best and worst possible way. 

Heat coils through him and he makes a strangled noise of pleasure, and Roman stills. Virgil inhales sharply and Patton swears that through half-lidded eyes he saw a blue-like smoke travel from his own lips, although he couldn't feel such a thing leave his throat to do so.

Patton expected to be more worried about losing his virginity, he also expected to lose his virginity in a bed somewhere, not in the middle of a forest, so really his standards for what should have happened and what is happening may as well be tossed through the figurative window. He also doesn't know how people think with so many sensations going on at once. What the blue-eyed man does know however, is that there are hands sliding his jumper off and he can't even find himself try to be embarrassed when that forked tongue flicks against his nipples, before sucking at the pert bud. He feels his cock twitch in his jeans, a twisting sensation in his abdomen as his heart hammers in his chest. "Look at you," Roman sighs. "You're so authentic in your reactions, you've not learned yet how to control them," Patton feels his cheeks flush. "Let me have him, Lo, please," He whines, rocking his own hips against Patton's impatiently.

"The longer you draw it out for, the better it'll be in the end," Logan replies, and Patton finds him mostly observing, squeezing himself lazily through his pants "Let me take care of you Roman," His dark eyes seem even darker now, leaning back against the tree and holding a hand out for Roman. The human whines as the other leaves, causing Dee to chuckle lightly and move, he lies between Patton's legs, leaning down to suck at the skin of his stomach, his hand running up the younger's side, watching him squirm and writhe beneath him. But the snake-eyed creature seems adamant he doesn't touch the little human where he most desires, hi hand dipping below the waistline enough to barely brush the other's hard cock. 

Virgil leans down to continue kissing him again, swallowing every desperate whine, every gasping moan. The faeries are finding him amusing, even endearing, how easily he draws so close from the simplest touches and how desperate he is for those touches. In some ways, to creatures such as themselves, it's a little saddening to know how badly he craves being touched. However it'll make one hell of a meal for them. Virgil leans back to look at Dee "You can stop him right? Keep him right there on the edge?" Patton makes a strangled noise, eyes wide and pleading "He wants to be touched so bad then do so, but pull your neat little trick on him,"

The curly-haired man tries to protest but it's only silenced by Virgil's mouth on his. And then, he almost forgets anyway because he finds his feet being slipped out of his shoes, hands trailing up his legs before they're sliding back down with his jeans and underwear in tow. Patton is aware that he should feel maybe a little more embarrassed than he is about lying naked on the forest floor but the moment that _tongue_ touches him...he's _gone_. He's almost sure he's going to lose it there and then as wet heat surrounds his hard cock, tongue pressing against him, moving quickly but perfectly. Patton arches a little, his hands finding Dee's hair as his hips buck without warning. He can feel it with every movement, heat pressing through his body, building and building. A throbbing heat coils from his abdomen and pushes through his flushed body, heart beating fast in his chest. 

But the release never comes. He can feel whatever it is Dee is doing to his mind, like a physical block preventing him from teetering over the edge, holding him there. Patton whimpers out a "Please," But all he gets is a little laugh from Virgil, who pulls away just a little and takes a deep breath with his violet eyes closing. Patton sees the thin blue wisps of smoke again, and somewhere in his mind it clicks that this is what Logan was discussing before.

_Logan._

He turns his head to look at Logan and Roman; Roman was seated in his partners lap, rolling his hips with his skirt bunched up by Logan's hands; his cock on display as it bobbed against his abdomen. Patton can see Logan's cock buried deep inside the other, and by the way the dark-eyed faeries' head tilts back against the tree, eyes lidded and lips parted to make way for low moans, he's certainly enjoying himself. And so is Roman, whose eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy and musical sounds are falling from his lips, moans that make Patton's gut twist.

He doesn't know how long this went on for, Dee holding him at the edge. He knows he started crying at some point, begging and pleading until Dee pulls away, Patton whines as he feels himself drawing back from the edge and it almost feels like a relief in itself until he suddenly has a very naked Virgil in his lap. Logan and Roman rejoin them, Logan kissing and sucking at Patton's neck. "It's time," Logan muttered, Patton can see the moon on this cloudless night, for some reason his mind tells him that she is here for a reason. Well, he knows the reason and that is all the minds inside his head that are no longer solely his own. 

He looks up at Virgil, whose eyes are so dark there's almost nothing left but blackness, Roman tilts Patton's head to the side to claim his lips once again, his taste distracting and wonderful, Patton gasps against his lips as he feels Virgil stroke his cock to full hardness again. Logan's mouth attaches to his left nipple, sucking at the hardening bud as the human shivers underneath him. He feels so small surrounding by these creatures, the way they touch his body is so tactical and practised, something they have done a thousand times over. He's unsure what's happening or even what's going to happen next but the moment Virgil sinks down on him he realises he doesn't care.

Roman moves a little beside him and Logan steals a kiss, a moan on his lips the moment he tastes Patton; the hormones, the need, the desperation and want and quiet pleas all seeping from his lips in firm movements. Then Dee is lying next to him and he tilts Patton's face towards him with a single finger to steal a warm and languid kiss, whilst Logan returns to making more bruises on his skin; Roman seated in Dee's lap, rocking their hips together. The young man has never quite felt so overwhelmed but in such a wondrous way, hands pressing against his body, a warm mouth against his, there isn't a part of him that doesn't feel like it's being stimulated. 

The warmth starts in his mind this time, and he knows that Dee is pushing the opposite buttons than he was before; it travels through him in waves, pooling in his stomach as he bucks up to meet Virgil's rolling hips, burying himself deeper into the other which was rewarded with a shaky moan. He hangs for a moment, teetering at the edge as stillness overcame him...and then he falls. A loud moan scraped from his throat as tears pricked at his eyes from the sheer relief of holding on for so long, he presses up into Virgil, shifting his hips just a little to chase that feeling. He watches Logan's eyes turn a sharp blue as the Faery inhales sharply, Dee pulls back from Patton's lips and the human can see it again; the blue smoke but so much clearer than when Virgil had drawn it from him, and so much more. 

He lets out a shaky breath as he watches the other's inhale it, it seemed to travel directly to each of them without them having to move as if they called it for themselves. 

And then suddenly, he just feels exhausted. His eyes close and he hears Virgil chuckle and move off of him. "We can't just leave him here," Logan sighs, but that's the last thing Patton hears before he blacks out. 

\--

He wakes up, clean and clothed in the middle of a circle of flowers, a blanket woven from thick leaves and flowers covering him. He sits up and blinks, looking around, but there is no one there. A heavy heart sinks, as he wonders if it had all been a dream, or worse if they had just left him. Well, after all, they didn't need him anymore. Patton stands and holds the blanket to his chest, but there is no-one around for miles and the daylight sunrise is starting over the hills. He takes the blanket with him, as he finds the path, and starts back home.


	2. Things You Never Expect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever fallen in love with an Eldritch God?

Roman leans against the bed post as sunlight calmly drifts over his naked body. The bedsheets, a crimson red, tangled around his tanned legs, his long hair haphazardly tied back but sprawling against the pillows he lay against. His heart thuds lowly and peacefully in his chest as the sunlight adds a beautiful glow to his skin. He opens his eyes slowly, blinking lazily with a small smile on chapped lips "You could at least pretend to sleep," his hoarse voice rings out, moving to lie on his side whilst opening his brown eyes properly to meet a calm pair of light grey ones.

Sharp teeth grin back a little, a small shrug of deathly pale shoulders. Roman reaches his fingers to delicately trace the black lines tattooed in some fashion to his lovers skin. His nails graze over the lines that are so much older then he himself is, a silent reverie on his tongue as he does so. "I know you don't particularly _need_ to sleep every night Logan, but that doesn't mean don't try," His companion laughs lightly in response and leans to lightly kiss his lover. 

It's not clear to many that Logan is more than human, his teeth a little sharp and tattoos an old language yes, but not quite non human. It's clear to Roman for many reasons although it took a while for him too cotton on. Months in fact.

He'd met Logan by accident in the rain and a hurry one evening, he'd run into a man, _this_ man, who had offered him an umbrella and told him to be careful "Your body is fragile," Logan had said, and smiled with his slightly sharp teeth "You will catch a cold," Roman had told him he was weird and laughed.

It took many months before Logan told Roman the truth and at first the human had thought he was using a metaphor, but then Logan showed him. 

"What you see is real but it is not me, not really and not wholly," The man had explained, pulling his shirt over his head; the tattoos Roman so adored visible from where they dip under his waistband, up and over his muscled stomach and chest and up to his neck, most of his skin is full of symbols that the elder just never explains. "It is however, not my only form, but if I show you it, show you the truth Roman, I beg of you not to run," Roman agreed, and sat on the bed and watched.

Logan uttered something in a language the other had not recognised, tracing a large symbol on his chest. Roman watched. His eyes were wide and waiting as Logan's face screwed up in thought and then pain, a gasp on his lips and sweat on his face. The long haired man had stood to help only to get a strangled "No!" In response.

But it was like watching a chrysalis unfold, skin breaking and body shifting. His skin seems to crack a little and then...well it's Logan, but a Logan that makes Roman gasp a little. Five pale eyes stare back, the two he's used to seeing now devoid of an iris or white, now simply a...galaxy, purple and blue with flecks of white; the one in the centre of his forehead only white, whilst the remaining two are pale blue, the skin around them tinged the same colour and matching now the colour of his lips. His ears now point, long and with large holes in the lobe, as though they had been stretched, whilst behind his back are two large, leathery wings the colour of obsidian. Around his wrists is...something, something moving and long. It takes Roman a moment to realise that they are many long and thing tentacle. Logan blinked, and smiled shyly with sharp, pointed teeth.

"Oh," Is all Roman can manage at first.

Then he leaned forward and kissed the breath from his partner's lungs, pulling him back until they're both collapsed on the bed, Logan lying between Roman's legs. His hands cupped Logan's face, his legs curled around the other's with his hips raising. "Enjoyable then?" Logan asked, his voice deep and mellow, with a tint of amusement in his tongue. "And there was me, assuming you would be fearful," He should have really known better of what Roman is like, his curious hands ran over the moving masses wrapping around Logan's arms, then up to touch Logan's wings. They both catch their breath a moment as Roman simply studies his lover's body with curiosity.

"What are you?" Roman asked, his eyes wide with wonder and mysticism, enthralled by Logan's form. 

"Very old," is the tired chuckle Logan gives, moving up off of Roman to kneel over his body, wings outstretched in the light of the evening sunset. The human sat up a little beneath him, his eyes trailing over his beautiful partner, committing every new detail to memory, his hands itching to touch some more. "I have been alive since the beginning, travelling and settling and then travelling some more, I was created for Humanity, to love them and care for them; my speciality is writing the laws of the world, to maintain what was once called magic and is now called Physics," Roman smiles up at the other, shaking his head in wonder.

"You're a God," He whispers, Logan blushes a light blue colour in response, ready to protest. "My own God," 

"Perhaps once," The elder smiles bashfully "There was a time where people would worship me but it is not the life I want, I exist to help not to be adored," He shrugs a little, looking down at Roman, who is staring at him like he is all of the stars in the sky in such a beautiful vessel. "Until I met you," He leans back over Roman, his hand placed on his lover's chest and pushing him down, his hands resting on either side of Roman's head as he leans down to kiss him sweetly and softly "Then I thought maybe being adored is not so bad after all," Logan feels the other man grin against his lips, Roman's hands tracing lines along his body.

"I adore you," Roman muttered, his body arching up against his lover's "I'll adore you until I die," Logan's lips meet his own again, kissing him firmly as their hands seek each other's, the elder's body pressing down against Roman's as he pins his intertwined hands down against the mattress below him. Roman's hips jolt up against the other's, grinding up against him. "I want you, I need you," His voice is soft and pleading, a sheen of sweat forming over his skin as his cock twitches a little, the excitement of loving someone as he had for months, but differently, overwhelming his senses as he pleads. "Fuck me," And who is Logan to deny him?

The tentacles unravel from around his arms, trailing along Roman's body and pushing his shirt up and off of him, chuckling as the human arches into the touch with a weak moan on his lips. Logan's hands tease his lover, easing him out of his jeans as the tentacles run over his skin, pressing where he always needs it most, over the sensitive parts that the elder had committed to memory so many times before. Roman is always so responsive, jolting and jerking and arching, moans and gasps and praise on his lips, desperate "please's" making their way over his lips. Logan's eyes watch, hands stripping himself out of his remaining clothes. 

He has much more stamina in this body, his wings stretch out in an almost protective fashion as he eases into his lover, an arm wrapping around Roman as he pushes into him, holding him in place. Roman lets him, arms wrapping around the other's chest with his forehead resting against the other's shoulder, his eyes falling shut and a low gasp ghosting his lips delicately as his cock twitches between their bodies. His hands rest on Logan's back, his fingertips tracing the blackened tattoos on his skin slowly and with practised precision; loosing himself in the sensation of being fucked by a _God;_ by something as old as time itself, someone bigger than he could ever be. More than that, by someone he loves as much as he loves life or himself, someone entirely and irrevocably his to _worship_ and treat as his own. 

Logan presses into him harder and faster, taking him apart in quick and fluid movements the way Roman has always adored; it makes more sense now why Logan can take him apart in a matter of minutes as though he's the scattered parts of a watch on a countertop, instead of a complex human being. It doesn't surprise him as much as it should that Logan is not Human, when his mouth presses to Roman's skin as though he's trying to draw his very essence from him in the practised way he marks him up, claims him as his own, and in a way that has Roman gasping and whimpering. It doesn't surprise him so much at all as Roman writhes beneath the other, rolling his hips desperately, and in minutes he is climaxing hard and with a growling whimper of his lover's name. In some ways Roman knew Logan was not Human, not with that stamina and those hands or the way that overstimulation feels like a blessing as he continues to press hard into the Human. 

Roman knows anyone who he'd serve so easily and so often would at least have to be something ethereal to him. He whimpers out Logan's name like it's a prayer, his nails scratching at the pale skin of the other's shoulder, palms pressing against the tense muscles before ghosting over the thick and leathery wings, revelling in the way the man shudders at the touch. 

When Logan finally reaches his climax, spilling into him, Roman feels satisfied, pleased, the way he always does. His own orgasm had left him shaking and in bliss, but nothing quite stills the pounding of his heart and makes his body feel warm as knowing he has been of service to Logan. In life, Roman is so very dominant and demanding, for Logan he is nothing short of a man on his knees for something he loves more than anything. It does not surprise him as much as it should that Logan is something other, something different and something new, but then again even if he wasn't then it's a certainty that Roman would make it so he was. He worshipped him before he knew Logan was a God, he'll worship him all the same now.


	3. Psyvamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman's starving, Patton's willing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: starvation, psychic feeding.

It's a quiet evening; the cars hum on the streets outside and the winter's sun has already set into blackened skies, the stars as bright as they always are, and covered in the smoke of the city out of sight. Patton has already closed shop, wiping down the counters and setting aside baskets before there's a knock at the door. He smiles when he sees his friend, Roman, but then that smile flickers as he sees the way the other man jumps, skin pale and a withdrawn look on his face. The elder rushes to open the door, his long blue skirt flowing behind him, the flowers embroidered into the design matching the colourful bouquets around him. He opens the door with a worried look "Roman are you okay?" 

The other shakes his head, his usually dark brown eyes are red, which Patton has never seen before but knows it is not good. "I'm starving, I haven't had time to..." He's shaking a little "I didn't know where else to go or who to go too, no-one else knows, and I fear if I go to the usual places there could be some...issues," The florist nods his head, locking the door behind them "Please I need...I need..." Patton takes Roman's hand and the other's expression crosses something feral for a second, his grip suddenly tight on the other's before he darts back, screwing his eyes shut. 

"Is there no-one I can call? One of your regular hook-ups or...?"

"Not like this Pat, I don't...I wouldn't come to you if I wasn't...**_ah_**...desperate," His hand flies to his temple, eyes falling closed again except this time with an almost painful expression "_Please_," Roman whimpers, leaving the shop owner to look around, a pale blush on his cheeks before he grabs Roman's hand and leads him to the back. "I need to know you want this, I know it sounds stupid I'm literally dying but I just-" Patton silences him with a warm kiss, lips parting immediately, and Roman _growls_ in response. Before the young man knows it, he's sat on his thankfully clear workbench with an almost bruising grip on his thighs. 

The vampire can taste the want on the human's tongue, the need bleeding into every kiss, it must have been a while for his friend he thinks very quickly and absently before he succumbs to the sheer animalistic starvation that has him pushing Patton's skirt right up, tugging his underwear down to his ankles before they drop unceremoniously to the floor. Patton inhales sharply at the unfamiliar cold in less than familiar places, at least in this fashion and in this way, nevertheless he can't help the way his body reacts, a gasp on his lips as Roman surges forward again, claiming Patton's lips in his own. 

He hears Roman unbuckling his belt, seconds before the vampire is dragging him to stand up. There's no gentleness in the movements, and by the blood red of his eyes, Patton would assume there's little there in the way of one of his closest friends, he does as his told and has no quarrel with that. Nails graze against his thighs, hands twisting him around so he is bent over his workbench; he gets the distinct feeling he is not going to be able to work at this bench without lewd thoughts for a while. When Roman presses into him, he squirms, expecting pain or to protest, but then he remembers his partner is currently not as human as he appears, and finds his own body is receptive to that. Despite the fact he stretches with no issue Roman still takes it slow at first, seemingly caring for his mate's distress despite only half being aware of what emotions _are_.

Then the hunger returns again. Patton doesn't really know how it works, Roman had explained it to him before, his need to feed like this, but he had never been on the receiving end. Suddenly he finds that an issue, that he had to wait so long for this. He gasps as Roman slams into him, pushing him against the cool surface of the bench, his hips slamming to the wood with each thrust, pressing indents to his skin. His nails scrabble against the counter, gasping and moaning the other's name without his cock even being touched. Patton's never felt like he's floating before during sex, he'd never felt his body so receptive to this, and Roman has much more stamina than any partner he'd ever had.

Nails draw against his hips, Roman's hot breath against his ear, repeatedly slamming into him over and over until he's shaking and whimpering and begging for release. Roman still does not touch him and some part of Patton thinks touching himself would ruin it, like he needs permission to do so, so he doesn't. Instead he focuses on the overwhelming heat that is pushing him closer and closer to the edge, until he's practically shouting out Roman's name, his cock twitching as he releases. Roman pushes deep into him, hands wrapping through Patton's curls to tilt his head back and press their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss. The vampire inhales sharply as he releases into Patton, not moving for a moment with his hand still gripping the back of the human's head.

There's a stillness that follows their frantic ecstasy, and when the elder finally releases Patton, he slumps over the other's body as though exhausted; or bloated, the way one stills after a large meal. "You have...so much," He pants, before slowly drawing out of the other man, "It must have been years since you..."

"Yeah," Patton flushes a little, cum leaking out of him as he lets his long skirt fall back, covering himself "A few yeah," He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, still feeling a little dizzy and even more like he'd just drank a few bottles of wine to himself. Roman stares at him, before he cups Patton's jaw and kisses him firmly, crowding him against the table as his hands run up the other's side. His lips trail across Patton's jaw and neck, feeling him melt against him, feeling the way he craves so easily for him, body heated under his touch. Roman lifts him up and sits him back down, pushing the skirt up his legs before grazing his nails over his thighs, his hand gently cupping the other's sensitive cock.

Patton shudders, leaning back on his hands as he lets the other touch him, slowly and curiously and in a much calmer fashion; he feels his thighs twitch a little as his nerves are continued to be stimulated, his eyes meeting Roman's which have faded from their bloodthirsty crimson. He feels his cock stiffen again, which he knows is unusual given his usual refractory period, but doesn't protest as the slow but dull pleasure twists through him, unable to tear his eyes away from Roman as he leans up and drags the Vampire into another warm kiss. He can feel his own energy seeping into him the way it had moments before; and although he had never expected to experience it, it's hard not to enjoy the sensation he'd only ever thought about in passing. 

He shifts his hips a little as an invitation for more firmness, and faster too, which Roman takes without hesitation. His practised and quick movements push Patton to moan against his lips, a short gasp escaping him as he feels the pleasure warm his semi-exposed body, crawling in heated waves through his muscles and pooling in his abdomen. He'd expected to feel more over stimulated but no, instead he squirms with sheer lust as he refuses to part his lips from Roman's longer than the time needed to take a breath. 

As Patton's orgasm approaches he whimpers Roman's name against his lips, and the Vampire feels how warm that makes himself feel, feeling the energy build inside of Patton, waiting to be released. Except this is his best friend, more than just a meal or something fun he'd found to do. Roman rests his forehead against Patton's, sharing shorter kisses as the other's face screws up in pleasure, his body tensing under Roman's administrations as he releases over his hand. The elder inhales sharply, the energy flowing into his own being as he does so, whilst Patton's body releases against his own, breathing deeply. "Good?" The Vampire asks softly. He gets a mute nod and a tired grin in response. 

Roman flits around looking for things to help clean the other up, watching as Patton smiles shyly and thanks him, a blush on his cheeks that makes Roman avert his gaze so the other could tidy himself up, and taking a cue to sort out his own clothes too. "Thank you," Patton mutters. 

"I should be thanking you," Is the low, chuckled, response he is given. Patton shakes his head and leans up to kiss him softly. "What?"

"Want to...go get some coffee or something?" The human asks, his eyes wide and bashful as he shifts slightly on the spot, Roman's heart stutters in his chest the way it always had for his friend. 

"I would love nothing more,"


	4. Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton finds himself unable to be satisfied, and searches for the Faeries again.

Patton didn’t stop going to the woods after his encounter, he also hasn’t had much of an appetite for sex. He’d tries finding a human partner, but it always felt a little…unsatisfying, and masturbating even more so the case. His father had always told him that once you start you never stop, that you get a thirst for it. And he did have a thirst for it, but a thirst for a very specific endeavour that seems to be impossible to find.

He gives up finding that in the human world and strays from the path in the forest, walking through clearings and climbing over fallen tree branches desperate to find them again. After months with no avail, he was starting to feel just a little hopeless; but that didn’t stop him from trying. Patton became obsessed with the idea of meeting the Faeries again, his dreams haunted by inky eyes and forked tongues, of hands on his skin and exhaustion.

It wore him down, trekking through the forest for hours until he was thoroughly lost and tired, with dirt and sweat clinging to his skin.

“Please,” He whispers, his eyes screwed shut as he feels tears prick his eyes “Please, I miss you,” A tear treks over his cheek, followed by another and then another, he brings his hands up to wipe away the salty liquid, barely noticing as they hit the ground one after another. “I don’t know if you can see me or hear me, but I always assume that you can, you know?” His voice cracks “I mean I know you’re not omnipotent but…I guess everyone likes to believe that they are special,” He sinks down to the ground, his back resting against the bark of the tree. “I think that was the first time I’ve ever really felt special, or even interesting, I know that’s so stupid because you weren’t interested in me you were interested in what I could give you, and you just…left, you’ve probably lured so many more humans in, and I’m not important,” He takes a deep and shuddering breath, his ribs rattling in his chest “But you were important to me,” A long silence follows, and he stands, turning to look at the tree he had leaned against “My name is Patton Sanders, and I want to make a deal,” His voice cracked again, a hollow sinking feeling in his chest.

There’s a faint smell of petrichor and wildfires that stings his nose so potently that he can feel the heat of the flames and rain at once. His jaw clenches, stomach sinking as he screws his eyes shut. “And what can I do for you, little one?” It’s not a voice Patton recognises and turns to face whoever stands behind him.

He’s short, with long and dark brown hair that tumbles way past his shoulders, half of it tied back out of his face. His eyes are a deep red, and his face is so familiar that Patton knows immediately from memory. “Roman,” The stranger smiles and shakes his head.

“I don’t know if that’s a request, but I am Remus, his…well we shared the same flower bed so to speak,” His grin is a little twisted, his eyes flickering with trouble, Patton knows this is a mistake from the moment he’d said the words. But his stubbornness is making no friends with his logic today. “Is your deal to speak with him?”

“Don’t suppose I get to choose which Faery I make a deal with?” Patton offers with a weak smile, Remus laughs in an exaggerated fashion, but Patton can see the genuine cheer in his voice.

“Technically no, and technically yes,” Remus finally concludes from his laughter “When you offer your name, you can declare you want to speak with a specific Faery, if you know their full name,” Patton blinks, opens his mouth to speak, but Remus interrupts “And Faeries can have anywhere between 60 and 100 names each, so we sort of made it a ‘no’ situation,” Patton closes his eyes for a moment. “What is your deal?”

He doesn’t know. This isn’t exactly fool proof. In fact, he thinks it’s rather foolish. “I…” He trails off “I want to see Roman, the one with red eyes…an empath, I think his…whatever the Faery equivalent of a boyfriend is…his boyfriends are called Logan, Virgil and Dee,”

“This is a lot of effort for one Faery,” Remus comments, eyebrows furrowed “Okay you’ve got me, interest piqued…why?” Patton’s cheeks flush a little and the dark haired man grins at the look on his face. “Ah I see, the little devils had some fun with you at the revel, and you can’t let it go, can you?” The blush darkens, but the human stays silent, arms crossing over his chest protectively “You’re not the first or last human they’ve played games with, but I have to admit you’re the first willing to sell your soul for another round,” He chuckles lightly “I do see the appeal, not in Roman obviously he’s the worst, but Virgil is good with his teeth,” Patton doesn’t know what he means, but nods anyway.

The Faery studies him for a second “A deal with me is not like a deal with them, however, I will make sure there are repercussions,” He pauses “I will take you to Roman, and his harem, however you will not remember it, any time you spend in the Faery world will be erased from your memory the moment that you arrive home, you will have no recollection of any time you have spent or will spend with them,” Patton feels tears prick in his eyes, taking a deep breath in. He nods. “Are you sure you really want to pay that price?’ Remus grins, teeth sharp in the sunlight “If you don’t remember them, you may not remember to come back,”

“I accept the deal,”

“Very well, and let it be known that I am going easy on you because Roman gets attached to his humans and I don’t want to wake up missing more ribs,” He offers his hand and Patton takes it, shaking. The dark-haired man pulls him closer and presses a sharp kiss to his lips, his facial hair feeling pleasant against Patton’s face. When he opens his eyes, they are somewhere else completely. “Hold onto me, don’t want someone trying to whisk you up, not particularly because I care if you get gored, but it’d be a shame if you were taken before I get to witness the fallout of your deal,”

The forest is so much bigger than humans can see, as though a forest is stored inside the forest, a pocket forest; bigger on the inside if you will. But now it is so crowded, with houses and structures made of wood, bodies all around as Faeries went about their daily life. Some had horns, others had antlers, many had more eyes than two, some with sharp nails and others with more rows of teeth than necessary. Their shapes and sizes, and arms come in many forms, and skin ranging from so pale that the veins beneath make up most of their complexion, and some much darker than Patton is used to seeing in his little village. All of them are beautiful, even though they are strange; some even monstrous, Patton can’t help but find them alluring.

Remus guides him through the many bodies towards one home, knocking at the wooden panels. “Wakey wakey,” It’s four in the evening, or it was anyway. “Roman you have a guest,” There’s a small noise on the other side that sounds confused, but the voice makes Patton’s heart trip over itself.

“A guest?” The door opens, rickety on it’s handmade hinges, it sticks a little before it’s dragged open inwards. Inside is dimly lit, and inside is Roman, his eyes still a deep red and his hair still the colours of autumn leaves. The Faery takes a moment, look first to his brother and then to the small figure beside him. His face flickers with recognition of the biggest meal he’d had in months and he feels the emotional equivalent of stomach growl. But the realisation sinks in far too quickly and his expression goes hard, his jaw tense and his eyes saddened “Oh what have you done little one?” His voice is soft, the mischief fluttered from it as he realises that to get here, Patton must have made a deal “What did you sell to see us?”

“His memories,” Remus grins “For me that’s almost kind,” Roman looks back to Patton, who is nevertheless staring at him like he is the sun and stars. With a pang in his chest, he realises Patton cares not for what he sold, only for what is stood before him. Roman sighs and gestures for Remus to leave him, which the other does with no grace, and with a smile that’s almost animalistic in its joy; not the way Virgil and Dee had looked to him that evening, but with pure malice.

“Come, Patton, I feel you have a lot to catch me up on,” Inside, which looks far bigger than it did inside, Virgil is sat on a wooden counter, sipping a hot beverage from a mug. He has a smile on his lips, and with the starvation not there he looks almost normal. His face and body relaxed as he speaks in a quick language. Patton doesn’t know what he’s saying, but the tone is teasing, and by the expression on Logan’s face he is the butt of the joke. Logan is scratching words into a hand bound leather book, the ink neat and tidy, the corners of his lips dare to smile even with the little abuses Virgil is throwing to him.

It’s not how he remembers them, well Logan remains the same in his firm expressions and tiny smiles, but the others…not so much. Roman fidgets beside him, his eyes making holes into Patton’s soul as he shifts from one foot to another. As the other’s realise there is someone else in the room, they look up and promptly still the way a startled animal might. Logan’s eyebrow arches and he leans back in his chair, an unreadable expression on his face. “Well this is unexpected,” His eyes are as dark as Patton remembered and he offers the smallest of smiles to the man. “Patton, wasn’t it?” A nod of agreement from the man in question “Yes, I never forget a name,” He rests the pen beside the ink pot and folds his arms, studying him. “Why are you here?”

“He sold his memories to see us,” Roman interjects, and it’s then Patton realises why the Faery looks different; it’s because he’s sad, his shoulders slumped, and eyebrows furrowed like he’s stopping himself from tearing up. “He sold his name to Remus for us,” Virgil exhales sharply through his teeth.

“It’s a miracle he’s still alive then,” Dee shakes his head in bewilderment “Remus doesn’t often give out such light deals, honestly be happy he still has his lungs,” Patton shifts unconsciously behind Roman just a little at the harsh tone, like a child hiding behind their parent. Logan shoots the snake-faced Faery a disapproving look, before gesturing to an empty chair.

“It’s commendable that you would go to such lengths in which to contact us, if not foolish, please, sit, Roman why don’t you make our guest a hot cup of tea, he looks like he could do with it,” Virgil scoots off the counter so Roman could do as he’s told, taking a seat at the table, his dark eyes watch Patton like a hawk. He shivers under the gaze, recalling the last time Virgil looked at him in such a way. Dee make a low noise that sounds like a gravelly whistle and Virgil rolls his eyes before looking away. “So, how long has it been for you would be the best place to start?”

“Just under a year,” Patton muttered. Logan nods in acknowledgement.

“And why did you come looking for us in the first place, let alone make a deal to see us?” His tone is not sharp nor gentle, but there is an underlying feeling that Patton is being told off in some way or another.

“I missed you,” Patton says truthfully “It’s like nothing can satisfy me anymore,”

There’s a small noise of ceramic hitting wood as though it was dropped in surprise and all heads turn to look at Roman, who has a small smile on his face that is all too smug. Virgil tilts his head to the side and then nods. “Makes sense, we are fairly magical,” His voice is deep and calm, the last time Patton had seen Virgil the man had been starving for his energy, but now he is collected and the smirk on his lips isn’t hungry, it’s _teasing_. It makes Patton’s cheeks heat a little.

“Just the sex then?” Logan almost sounds hopeful. Patton shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I really don’t know,” A mug of hot tea is sat down before him, and Logan nods in understanding.

“Drink it slow, it’ll be strong for you, it’s mushroom tea,” Roman gestures to the tea, it’s a light yellow in colour and the human knows that when he says ‘mushroom’ he’s not talking about the type you put in your soups and salads. He lets it cool in front of him for a while, not wanting to burn his mouth or guzzle down psychoactive substances like it’s going out of fashion. Roman sits on Logan’s lap and there’s a quiet that doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as it should. Virgil steals some of the tea whilst Patton waits for it to cool, as though knowing the other man will not want the whole cup.

Eventually, he drinks.

\--

Patton wishes with his entire heart that he could remember how he got in this position, his vision slurring objects together, and providing the world with colours that seemed to replace other colours. He closes his eyes, his body vibrating as a flow of emotion opens in his chest, sinking into the touch that feels like butterflies on his skin. He thinks he’s already came one or twice, he thinks it’s been a few hours. He doesn’t know anything for sure.

He can’t look too long at their faces because they seem to twist under the drugs, and that scares him, he doesn’t want to be scared. He feels like he’s floating under the brush of sharp nails and a forked tongue, he recognises Roman’s energy and Logan’s kiss, and the way Virgil moves on his cock, but he couldn’t place these actions individually if he tried. Everything blurs together, time and kisses and handprints and bitemarks. He is so tired but with so much energy, watching the flowers on the wall shift and twist between heated bodies.

Nothing makes sense, and everything makes sense at the same time, all the things he’d thought he’d known were not that, and everything he’d never had an answer too has the first few lines of a response.

He doesn’t know how long this continues for, but he does eventually pass out.

\--

“What day is it?” blonde, ruffled hair twists around pale skin as the human sits up in the large cotton bed, his eyes squinting at a far too bright sky. His mind feels a little woozy, and his skin a little dirty as he makes sense of the bodies around him. Virgil chuckles, his laughter as deep as his voice, but with a glint in his eyes that makes Patton feel small, in a good way. Virgil is smoking something that smells sweet, by the smell Patton would guess sage, as he sits at the window and flicks ash to the ground outside.

Logan is lying on his stomach at the end of the bed, flicking through the pages of a book, he looks up at Patton with a small smile and shakes his head. “The day after yesterday,” He replies, the words wrapping around his tongue with a joyful lilt “Thursday,” They all look a little cheerier, and he supposes that was because of him, because he was a four-course meal to them. “You should stay here for a while, there’s no rules on how long you stay, if you have no prior engagements,”

Roman sits up suddenly beside Patton, eyes wide “We can keep him?” He asks excitedly, his grin much sharper than memory serves.

“He’s not a dog Roman,” Dee grumbles from the other side of Patton, not enjoying the volume in which his partner seems keen to speak at. “You don’t keep a human, they stay with you out of…you know what that’s not any better, humans are basically puppies, and I’m going back to sleep,”

“If he wants to stay, he’s welcome here,” Logan concludes with a low sigh, shaking his head a little, “You took so much effort to be here and it’s not as though you come without benefits, we usually don’t…keep…humans, but if you’re here willingly then I don’t see such an issue, if you stay here too long though, you must know you will not be able to return home, after a period of three months I have to sign paperwork or you will be forcefully removed for the realm, in some ways it’s sort of like human adoption, except not for parental units,”

“You’re more like a sex slave,” Virgil offers, joking just a little as he gestures towards Patton.

“But that’s a problem for the future,” Roman’s hand grabs Patton’s, he knows it should feel invasive to be grabbed suddenly, but the human can only find himself melting into the touch, seeking the dazed waves of happiness that Roman pushes through him. “For now you can just stay here, and be happy,” His smile is sharp, eyes glinting in the light as he tilts his head to the side, Patton feels like he’s floating and dazed. “You want to stay here and be happy don’t you Patton?”

“I do,” Patton replies, his voice feeling like a cloud.

“Then you will stay with us,” It’s not a question anymore, but Patton doesn’t care “And you can be happy here forever,” Patton smiles, and believes that, as he leans into Roman’s touch and rests his head on his shoulder, feeling at last _satisfied._


	5. I Think About You Day And Night (It's Only Right)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has frequent, reoccurring sexual dreams about the same, strange man.

Logan woke up breathless, the way he’d been waking up every morning for weeks. His body felt too hot, returning to the present as the cold of the room sinks in under the covers that feel a little too heavy. He peels his sweat-slicked skin from the bedsheets to sit up, taking a deep breath in as he lifts the covers to stare at the damp of his boxers. The brunet breathes out with force once more, cheeks puffing out as he drops the quilt back down, raising a hand to run through his messy curls out of confusion and stress. 

The same sort of dream every night, for weeks. He doesn’t know where they came from, but he wakes up every morning the same way, breathless, with arousal twisting in his gut and come staining his boxers. 

The man slides out of bed, dropping his underwear on the floor to wander over to his dresser and grab a clean pair, heading to the shower. The sunlight was starting to brighten up the world through the curtains, so he knows he’s not up too early or too late and somehow that’s comforting. He does have to admit that before these dreams he hadn’t been sleeping nearly as well. 

Logan washes his face and hair and body in the shower, rinsing soap down the drain with a hum along to some imaginary music. He doesn’t really know what to make of the situation, if it weren’t for the fact it’s always the same man he’d put it down to his lack of a partner and simple hormones getting twisted up in the absence of touch. 

And the fact he’s never met this man in his life. But it’s definitely always the same man, same mischievous smile and strange eyes. His eyes are like...galaxies, the one thing he never forgets, black eyes, with a deep, purple iris’ that spiral into blue. He also doesn’t forget the way the stranger touches him either, if that’s even something that can be forgotten. 

Logan sighs, and steps out of the shower, drying off his hair and brushing his teeth. 

Then he just goes about his day, because he has too, because he has to go to work and he doesn’t have time to think about strange men that plague his dreams in the most delectable way. 

By the time night time comes around again he’s so very tired, dragging his feet through his flat with this resounding sigh of malcontent. But as Logan is getting ready for bed he recalls his dreams with a sort of...discomfort. It surely is not normal to have recurring dreams like that every night about the same person, but he doesn’t believe in the supernatural or the meanings of dreams. There must be a logical reason, a scientific reason somewhere for why he’s thinking these things? Why he’s reliving an experience he’s never actually had, over and over again. 

The blue-eyed man tries hopelessly to recall what he can, but it all comes in fragments, hands on his skin, feeling hot and aroused, and those eyes. Those captivating, _hypnotic_ eyes. 

He bites down his pride and grabs his phone, flopping back on the bed to ask the internet what it means. He finds websites that talk about magic and superpowers and he doesn’t believe a single word of what he reads. There’s no science in that, and he cannot understand why any sort of magical person with the power to induce dreams like that would waste it on him. He’s nothing and no-one special, simply a too-tall and awkwardly proportioned twenty-six year old with about as much sex appeal (and control over his body in that sense) as a newborn baby deer. 

Logan tosses his phone down on the bed and closes his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath in as he tries to let the world pass him by. Some part of him doesn’t even want to sleep; the dreams are starting to unnerve him now. Eventually, no matter how hard he tries to fight it, exhaustion wins and he falls into a slumber. 

For a moment he’s alone, in his own bed, he stares at the ceiling and sees only darkness, and then it’s there; the sound of floorboards creaking under the weight of a body. Logan sits up, and startles when a weight presses at the end of the bed, his eyes searching through the darkness to see that man again. His hair looks light even in the darkness, in the lamplight that pours in through the window it looks to be a pale brown. The eyes stare into his own as the body crawls towards him, Logan does not speak but waits with bated breath as the face draws closer, lips hovering over his own. 

The breath on his lips feels so real, inhaled between his lungs with every exhale, warm and patient. He closes the distance, kissing the stranger and allowing his body to be pushed back down into the sheets. When the lips trail from his own to his neck, he shivers from the heat, the sheets peeling back from his body as a weight presses down against his hips. Logan exhales shakily. “Who are you?” he asks, not knowing if he’ll remember the answer. 

“Does it matter?” The voice sounds amused, breath against his collarbones before teeth nip at his skin. “I’m just here to make sure you have good dreams.” Logan believes that, at least, as the stranger’s hips ground against his own and he can feel his cock hardening with every movement. 

“Are you real?” He tries instead. 

“Of course,” Logan isn’t sure what to make of that response, but he doesn’t really need to as his underwear is slid down his legs. He finds lips pressed to his own again, a hand wrapping around his cock, stroking him quick and distractedly; he moans into the kiss, his hips jolting as his hands come up to press to the body above his own._ It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream_. 

He forgets that when he comes with a loud, gasped cry of pleasure, his thoughts trailing off to something coherent as his hips stutter into the grip on him. The stranger pulls away, chuckling. 

And then Logan wakes up, sweat sticking to his skin and his boxers sticking to his cock. His alarm clock read 7AM, his body feels like it’s been hit by a truck. Is it him or are the dreams getting more real? More _coherent?_

He remembers that “of course,” and it sends a chill down his spine. 

What are these dreams supposed to mean and who is the stranger with the even _more_ strange eyes? What does he want from Logan? Is it really to just bring him pleasant dreams? There are so many different ways of doing that, why this specific sort of dream?

And _why_ does it feel so _good?_

He feels haunted by it for the rest of the day, but he puts it out of mind, he throws himself into his work and tries not to be unnerved by the implication that his dreams may be being manipulated by someone, by something. But that’s impossible, right, there’s no way that actually happens...that’s the thing of story books, or fairy tales, dream magic. He wonders for the first time in his life if the stories of incubi and dreamweavers and the Sandman were maybe based in something a little more real. 

Logan does not want to confront that thought, or that knowledge, as if that is something he should not know. Again, he is so ordinary that he doesn’t understand why anything remotely out of the norm would find itself in his presence; he works a normal office job that he hates, he’s too pale, he’s too plain, his eyes are the dullest shade of blue anyone could produce and his hair consistently refuses to do as it’s told. Why would anything that...magical...find itself attached to him of all people? 

He’s nobody. 

_Nothing._

Just boring old Logan with a boring job and a boring life. 

Night comes around again and he sits up against his headboard with his back up against the wood, staring into his bedroom. He leaves the lamp on this time, wondering if in his dream it will still be there, still glowing. Maybe he can get a better look at what is in his presence that way. 

Eventually he slips down into the bed and closes his eyes, falling into his dreams like taking a plunge off a cliff. Falling asleep should be the least scary thing a person does and yet it seems to be the most adrenaline-inducing activity Logan has ever attempted. 

When he next opens his eyes he’s still in his room, he sits up against the headboard, the lamplight is still on and the stranger sits at the bottom of his bed. “Clever,” he hums, watching the yellow glow. 

His hair is brown, light brown, it’s not curly or straight and falls into his alluring eyes in a way that suggests it must get on his nerves a lot. But he smiles a toothy grin at Logan and hums, gaze drifting over the shirtless body before he kneels up and moves closer to the man. “What are you?” Logan asks, because ‘who are you?’ lost it’s charm the first time around. “Really? Because this doesn’t feel normal.” 

“I’m Remy,” the fact he has a name is jarring to Logan, let alone something so mundane as that. “Short for Jeremy.” Nevermind, that’s even worse. “I’m human, like you, but...different.” 

“Why are you here?” His hands fall to the other’s hips as he straddles his lap, an action that is far too familiar. “With me, I mean...surely there are people with better dreams to attend too?” Remy laughs shortly at the confusion in the other man’s eyes, his hand coming to tilt Logan’s face to his own, he kisses him, softly and with much care. 

“You came to my coffee shop, two months ago, I took your order.” Logan tries to think that far back, but his life is almost as blurred and non-consecutive as his dreams are. All he ever remembers is the zombified weight of capitalism day in and day out. “You looked miserable, you barely seemed to be processing the world around you, when you asked me for a coffee you didn’t even seem to realise you were talking at all, I thought you needed cheering up, some stress relief.” 

“How are you doing it?” 

“I have this ability where I can enter people’s dreams and plan them, I give the dreams to people...usually I just do something funny, like unicorns and rainbows, or if someone’s pissed me off…” he trails off, giving a little mischievous grin. “But I got attached to your strange and unimaginative mind and decided to take a different route.”

“Where are you, now?” 

“At home, in my bed, asleep.” Logan nods, his hands sliding up Remy’s torso, taking the shirt with it, he simply feels the warm skin underneath. “I knew eventually you’d figure out something was up.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And we’re running out of time, but, if you want to meet me, it’s the cafe called forget-me-nots, it’s a bakery, cafe and also sells flowers.” He remembers that cafe, he’d thought it was the oddest little place he’d ever seen, a cafe that sells flowers and plants alongside cups of coffee and fresh pastries. “Come and see me on your lunch break if you want.” Remy leans down and kisses him firmly, deeply. 

And then Logan wakes up with a start. He’s never thrown himself out of bed so fast, never been so eager for a day to progress forward. He just about remembers to shave after his shower before he’s throwing on clothes and half-running to work. But that drags, it always does, and it doesn’t help that he’s staring at the clock for every minute that passes. 

Lunchtime comes and he stumbles four streets over to the place he’s looking for. Forget-me-nots. He’s not sure he could ever forget Remy, even when he’d tried too. He pushes open the door with his heart hammering in his chest, letting it close behind him. Music is playing quietly amongst the chatter of people, a young man with long blonde hair is leaning against the counter, chatting away to a customer. Logan’s eyes linger as he looks around, swallowing dryly as his feet carry him forward. 

He’s there, looking ordinary and somehow that is infinitely more magical than what he’d been doing to him every night. His hair falls into sunglasses that cover his eyes, but his face turns towards the door and the tray in his hand shakes as a grin crosses over his lips. He tilts his head towards the back room, placing the tray down on the counter. Logan follows him as he steps through the door. Remy’s hand catches his own and pulls him through. He’s smaller than Logan which he’d never noticed, but he still manages to feel tiny next to him; Remy’s personality is so huge it could cover entire states. 

His hands come up to slide the sunglasses off his eyes, so he can see them. He smiles as he stares into the endless galaxies that look even more mesmerising in the light of the room. 

When he kisses him it’s the most real thing he’s ever felt. A jolt passes through him as their lips meet, his breath almost immediately running short like he can’t even remember how to breathe. His hand that isn’t still holding sunglasses comes up to grip the other man’s shirt, pulling him closer and closer and closer. 

_He’s real. This is real. This isn’t a dream. _

When they pull away Remy gives him the grin he’s seen so many times before, gripping Logan by the tie and dragging him towards the bathroom. He pushes the taller man up against the door, his hand finding the lock whilst the other undoes Logan’s belt. The blue-eyed man curses gently, head falling back against the door whilst Remy kneels between his legs. 

Yes, this is definitely _not_ a dream. Logan covers his mouth to stop the moan that crawls loudly from his throat, his cheeks flushed as he pants out quiet curses, looking down to watch Remy hollow out his cheeks and take him down his throat. He swears for a very long second he’s going to pass out. He’s never felt so real or alive than he did then, his hand running through Remy’s hair as his hips jolt into his mouth, panting out his...his...what are they? Friends? Lovers? Something interesting for sure. 

Remy pulls off of him as he comes, swallowing his release as though it’s something he’s done a hundred times before; he’s not really sure if dreams count as a blowjob, but in that sense it is something he’s done many times. He tucks Logan back into his pants and stands with a grin. “I finish work at five.” He leans up to kiss him gently. “See you then darling.”

Logan exhales with a disbelieving laugh, sorting his clothes out and running a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you then.” 

He meets Remy after work, his day dragging torturously until he finds himself back outside that coffee shop. He ends up chatting to the man who had been behind the counter earlier (Patton, his name is Patton, and he talks enough for the both of them), whilst he waits for Remy to come outside. He locks up the cafe, bids farewell to his friend and employee, and then links his arm through Logan’s with a bubbly smile. 

Remy lives in a one-bedroom flat that barely has enough room to navigate, but he doesn’t half know how to decorate. There’s so many fairy lights and strips of satin just hanging from the ceiling, like he’d tried to make a home out of very little. That’s admirable. 

Logan doesn’t know how this man is never satiated though, as he’s pushed down onto Remy’s bed, the smaller man sat in his lap the way he had so many times before, but this is new, it’s different. He grips Remy’s hips and feels his weight in a way that isn’t clouded by dreams. The sunglasses end up on the bedside cabinet and those eyes, he could stare into those eyes forever, without fail, without hesitation. 

He accepts the kiss that isn’t, for the first time, rushed, he feels their lips slide together, their tongues brushing against each other’s. There’s no hurry, they have all night, not scrambled by sleep or a wake up time, but just the moment to themselves. It stretches on for eternity, and not long at all simultaneously. 

Logan’s hand slides up Remy’s back, his palm pressing to his spine as the shirt pulls up and over the smaller man’s head. The taller takes a long second to just appreciate Remy’s body, now that he can actually see it. The setting sunlight pours through the window over his tan skin, following the dips and curves of his body, as he sits in Logan’s lap. Then their lips meet again, Logan’s tie being slid loose, discarded to the floor without acknowledgement as Remy’s hands undo his shirt. His hands are cold as they slide down his bare chest, and it makes Logan shiver. 

Remy seems keen to take his time, excited he finally gets the chance, his lips trail from Logan’s, down his jaw, open-mouthed and sucking lightly at his skin. He catches Logan’s earlobe between his teeth and tugs, eliciting a quiet but heavy exhale from his partner. The lips move down his neck and finally he really bites, Logan’s hips jolt at the sensation and he doesn’t still himself, grinding up against Remy’s ass. 

The smaller man grins against his skin, grinding back against him as he moves to his collarbones. Logans hands move between their bodies, undoing the other man’s jeans. His hands slide down the back of them, cupping Remy’s ass between his hands and squeezing, pulling him against him. Remy’s forehead rests against Logan’s neck, a low, gasping moan escaping him as their bodies grind together, their cocks pressing to each others as he flattens himself against Logan. 

The taller guides Remy’s movements, squeezing and holding and rocking together, until they’re both rutting against each other desperately, moaning and panting. Logan can feel Remy’s shaking, jarred breathing against his neck, hot breath fanning over his skin and it spurs him on. Their clothed cocks ache against each other’s, Remy’s jeans sliding down his hips with the movements. It feels like...so much, so much more than Logan had been feeling. He gasps out Remy’s name and tilts his head to the side to catch his lips in a kiss, biting down on the smaller man’s lip, tugging it, sucking at it. 

Remy jolts against him and moans so loudly Logan is sure he can feel the vibrations right down to his chest. His hips stutter but Logan’s hands guide him through his orgasm, until he’s breathlessly panting against the other man, squirming weakly. Logan’s hands pull away, his hard cock digging in against Remy’s thigh, but he seems otherwise completely satisfied as the other sits up in his lap; his cheeks are flushed, his eyes lidded, his movements lethargic but determined as he places his hands on Logan’s chest and grinds his ass down against him. Logan eyes the damp spot in Remy’s boxers with a distinct sense of pride, his hands falling back to the other man’s hips as he grinds up against him, moans ghosting his lips as he chases the stimulation. 

But it’s not enough. He’s a little out of breath when Remy leans down to kiss him soothingly, sliding off of his body; Logan squeezes himself through his underwear, watching as Remy drops his jeans and underwear with a low noise of content bubbling in his throat, his eyes commiting the other’s body to memory. He gets himself out of the rest of his own clothes just in time for the other man to be back in his lap, his bare ass resting on his cock with a mischievous grin. 

He accepts the kiss and the bottle of lube, letting the other’s body slide up against his own as he slowly presses his fingers into the man. Remy makes some lovely noises, soft gasps and moans, his body rocking into Logan’s hand like it’s nothing to him. He stretches him open fluidly, pressing deep into him and imagining that tightness around his cock. 

When Remy gives him the go ahead, he rips open the condom wrapper provided to him and lubes up his cock, gripping the base to let the smaller man sink onto him. The man’s fingers find Logan’s hands and intertwine the two, not minding the lube that made the grip a little sticky as he rocks his hips, slowly at first, but as he adjusts and his confidence returns, he eagerly fucks himself onto Logan’s cock with gasped moans, his own cock twitching again. 

Christ, he doesn’t even want to know how much stamina this not-quite-human has. 

And this is infinitely better than any dream he’s given him. Logan’s resolve cracks and crumbles, his hips jerking without rhythm to try and meet Remy’s thrusts, eyes falling shut as he chases the stimulation. One hand untangles from his partner’s to wrap around Remy’s cock, jerking him in time to the movements. 

The sounds of moans and skin against skin fill Logan’s ears, Remy’s little whimpers and groans and gasps driving him just as close as the physical sensation of fucking him does. He crumbles when Remy cries out his name, cum leaking from his cock over Logan’s chest and stomach, dripping against him, tightening around Logan, whose hips jerk in response. 

He releases into Remy, practically growling the other’s name as their lips meet in a messy, uncoordinated kiss. Logan gasps into his mouth, his arm coming to wrap around the other’s waist as he rests against him, the two pull away and Remy rests his forehead on the other man’s collarbone. “Good?” He asks, quietly. 

“Fucking _wonderful,”_ Logan replies, trying to figure out if he’s seeing literal stars at present. “Thank you, _shit,_ thank you.” 

“Been that long?”

“Maybe you’re just_ really_ good.” Logan teases, Remy laughs in response, pulling his heavy body up his body up to sit on Logan’s stomach. The other man rolls the condom off his length and ties it off, discarding it onto the bedside cabinet for now. Remy’s eyes stare down at him and Logan inhales sharply as they bore into him, lost in the colours. 

“Sorry,” Remy mutters, looking away, his cheeks flushed. “They must be unnerving, it’s why I wear sunglasses.”

“Not even slightly,” Logan whispers. “You have such beautiful eyes.” Remy inhales so deeply and sharply that his entire body rises and falls with it. He doesn’t know what to say for a long moment, his lips parted to say something, anything at all, but all that comes out is a sigh that sounds a little like a whimper. Logan smiles up at him, his hand coming up to ease Remy back down, his smaller body lying on top of him, his head resting on his chest. 

Logan feels this not-human and yet very-human breathe against him and he asks: “...what are you, Remy?” The other sighs a little, lifting his head just a little. “I mean that in the nicest possible way, I don’t think any less of you, I’m just curious.” A little laugh fans out against Logan’s collarbone and he smiles in response as the other man talks.

“I’m human in almost every way, my parents were both human, but I have the powers bestowed by something not-human at all, people like me get given...gifts during our development, not ones that are asked for, but just for fun I think.” 

“Who gave you your gifts?”

“The Sandman,” Remy smiles softly. “I knew a boy who was given gifts by the Fae, now that was wild, the kid could make everything he touched go through the seasons...including people.” He shakes his head. “I’ve met other people too, we tend to find each other, I guess because we don’t really fit in human society completely; like Patton, you met him earlier, he can make flowers grow out of anything and everything, sometimes when he gets excited they grow out of him, it’s amazing, he’s part nymph.” 

“So these creatures just...give you some of their magic?” Remy nods. “Do you ever hear from them, do they tell you why?” 

“Sometimes, I mean it’s hard to get in contact with the fucking Sandman, there’s not exactly a hotline; but Patton speaks to the wood nymphs all the time, going for a walk in the forest with him is like having a picnic with a thousand very small people.” Logan laughs softly in response, his hand playing with the other man’s hair gently. “So I don’t know why, knowing the stories of that bastard he probably just hands them out for fun.” 

“Quite,” Logan smiles a little. “Whatever the case, I think you’re rather magical regardless.” 

“You’re the only weird fucker that doesn’t mind having their dreams stalked by the spiritual offspring of an eldritch terror.” 

“It’s the most interesting thing that had ever happened to me.” He closes his eyes, feeling the lethargy overcome him. Remy moves off of him a little to tug the covers over their naked, sweaty, sticky bodies. He doesn’t care, he’s never felt like he’s so much at _peace._ “Will I see you tonight?” 

“Of course.” Logan nods as Remy’s leg and arm wraps around his body, his head resting on his chest. 

He does dream of,_ with_ Remy that night, as he had for weeks. His body aches by the time he wakes up in the morning, by the time he’s peeling their bodies apart with a heavy sigh, not quite wanting to leave their little safehouse. Beds, where dreams are usually made; in more ways than one. The room smells like sex and sweat and Logan can barely heave his spent body into the shower to remove the dried come from his body. 

But the euphoria is still exhilarating. Remy’s hands do up his tie that morning and presses a kiss to his cheek and neck before he heads off to work. He walks in with this quiet smile on his face that day, he feels like a different person. But he’s exhausted, his body is exhausted, and he loves that too. He’s used to feeling the opposite. Too awake, and emotionally drained. 

He’s glad Remy took pity on him that day, he’s glad he got attached. He’s glad all of this happens. And when he closes his eyes he sees those eyes, dark and _**hypnotic,**_ staring right back into him.


	6. the only time i ever see him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn’t quite expecting Patton to say that he’d lost someone. 
> 
> Or that the someone in question had not really...left. Quite literally, actually, had not left. 
> 
> (AKA, Patton has a threesome with his ghost husband and his boyfriend)

Remus absolutely loves Patton; he’s just as loud and obnoxious as he is, smiles just as much, always eager to be cared for. But he’s soft-hearted, unlike Remus, he’s shy and he blushes so much more; for a man so much bigger, stronger and taller than his partner, he doesn’t half fluster easily. He can pick Remus up like he weighs nothing at all and still his lover finds it easy to pin him to a wall. **  
**

Not that they get much further. 

The smaller man does not know what it is that hinders them going much further, Patton seems enthusiastic right up until the point that he’s not, and then he gets this look in his eyes...like he’s _scared_. The topic is then desperately avoided. Remus doesn’t know how to ask in a way that will not pressure his companion, because the logical conclusion is that something must have happened to make Patton not want to have sex, and he doesn’t want to put that level of fear on his partner. 

But then there’s just..._worry_, of course, that something is wrong or that he’s doing something wrong. He has a wild and vivid enough imagination that he can tend to his own needs even if he does miss sexual intimacy to some degree, but it cannot be avoided that something is different from the other relationships he’s been in. He doesn’t want to hurt Patton, or at least not in a way he wouldn’t enjoy. 

Remus, for all his thorough questions and research, really could not have prepared for the answer he got. 

He was expecting something more...well, something he_ could _have expected. Anything he could’ve expected and prepared for at all in any regard. He was expecting sad news or heavy words or perhaps a realisation he hadn’t already had, or confirmation of his worries. He wasn’t quite expecting Patton to say that he’d lost someone. 

Or that the someone in question had not really...left. Quite literally, actually, had not _left._

“When I moved into this house I was twenty-one years old,” Patton gives a small smile, like his memories are playing in front of his eyes. “I moved in with my then-fiancee, Logan, we were both young and very much in love, the way high school sweethearts generally are,” he hums a little, the smallest smile on his lips. “You have to understand I loved him like nothing else I’d experienced, and didn’t think I’d ever experience again.” He shakes his head, his blonde curls falling on the inside of his glasses as he looks down at his freckled hands. The smile slips, he swallows dryly and takes a deep breath in. “He died in a car crash, he was twenty-six years old, we’d only been married a year...it was so sudden, one morning he was there and the next he was gone.” 

Remus squeezes his boyfriend’s hand in his own, listening with rapt attention and not interrupting despite the melancholy expression on his face. He doesn’t want to take the attention away from the mourning tone in Patton’s voice, so he just lets him speak. 

“I went to identify his body, I went to his funeral and it just didn’t seem real, none of it, that was Logan’s face and hair and eyes but none of it was...none of it was him, his soul wasn’t in there anymore.” He drew a shaky breath in. “This is where it gets weird, and now that I’ve told you, you’ll be able to see and know for yourself but please just...stay and _see_ it, yeah? No matter how crazy you think I am.” Remus gives an assuring nod, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Three days after his funeral, his things started moving around, I remembered exactly how he kept his books because when I was cleaning I was always careful to put them exactly where he liked them...and I knew for certain that they’d moved and I hadn’t moved them, I could barely bring myself to look at them after he died.” Remus’ eyebrows raise a little. “And then other things started moving, into entirely different rooms and I thought _‘Christ, I’ve finally done it, I’ve gone **insane**,’_ but I wasn’t insane.” He gives a short, teary laugh, shaking his head. “Then I saw him, he looked vaguely disorientated and he was just sort of stood there, staring at me, like he was waiting for me to see him.” 

“He...came _back?”_

“Sort of, it took a few months for him to get a grasp on being corporeal, and it’s better at night for whatever reason, I don’t know ghost physics.” 

“But if he came back then why…why did you start seeing me?”

“He can’t leave the house, he’s tied here even though it’s not where he died, he thinks maybe it’s because it was the last thing he thought of before…” he swallows again, taking a deep breath in. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not crazy, and I’m not lying.”

“I guess having sex in a house with your dead husband in it, with another man would be a drawback,” Remus gives a short laugh, but it sounds cracked. Even for him this is a lot to process. 

“Well, uh, sort of, it’s less about Logan’s preferences and more about yours, Logan doesn’t have any issues with me being with you, he reckons it’s only fair because he was just as much in a relationship with his damn books as with me,” he laughs again, smiling warmly and fondly, the sort of smile that one only has for someone they love so very dearly. “But mostly because he’s only here some times, not all the time, and we’d already talked beforehand about having a polyamorous relationship and that was when we had each other any time of any day.” 

“So uh...to clarify, you wanted to make sure I knew the whole story before we fucked?”

“He has a habit of popping up whenever he feels like it, also, and now that you know then...well he’s probably not going to be so delicate about hiding himself from you; I figured, however, the absolute worst time for you to find out my dead husband lives in the same house as me is uh, _then_.” 

“That makes sense,” he nods, processing it. “So I will...meet him?” 

“Assumedly, yes” there’s a long pause as this information rests in Remus’ mind, before he nods. 

“Okay, shall we have dinner now?” Patton snorts softly, but takes the hand offered to him. 

Remus gets to meet Logan that night, actually. He isn’t sure if he meant to scare the shit out of him in the process because one second he’s alone in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and the next second his toothbrush is clattering into the sink as he finds a pair of eyes meeting his in the bathroom mirror. 

He doesn’t look dead, if there’s a look for that. He leans against the bathroom wall, around Remus’ height but not as skinny. He’s wearing a shirt and tie and slacks, and has the most piercing blue eyes...almost unnaturally blue. He has colour in his cheeks like his blood is still pumping around his body, and wears a pair of glasses like even in the afterlife he has a fractured sight. 

“Hello,” Logan speaks, his voice sounds alive too, as voices usually do. “You must be Patton’s boyfriend.”

“And you must be Patton’s husband.” 

Logan nods, a small smile on his lips as he looks over his shoulder out towards the hallway. “That I am, it’s nice to make your acquaintance,” he turns back towards the other man and holds out a hand, which is taken hesitantly and with the discomfort that his skin is warm to the touch. Remus wonders if you could cut him and he would bleed at this point. 

He’s _dead._ He’d **_died._**

Yet he walks and talks like a human, his small smile is human, and his skin is heated like any other person’s, for all intents and purposes, Logan is alive. And he’s dead too. Remus doesn’t know what to do with that sort of information but at the very least he’s glad that it’s true; he’s glad that Patton hadn’t completely lost Logan, that he was still here to see and love his partner and that the reverse is true. 

“It’s nice to...make your acquaintance too?” Remus offers a short laugh of disbelief. Logan talks like a ghost but not one that died a handful of years ago, more like someone who died a century or so ago. “I uh...well, not exactly the circumstances in which you meet your boyfriend’s husband but honestly I don’t, well, I don’t mind sharing if that’s an issue and I understand why he’d keep something like that a secret, I guess I just wanted to clear the air a little.” 

“Likewise, although I knew about you already, I have no issues with you being romantically or sexually involved with Patton,” the ghost gives a small smile that reminds the other man distantly of the sort of smile a teacher would give you, tight, a little tired. Remus just nods because he still doesn’t know what to do or say in a situation like this, like there will _ever_ be another situation like this. 

-

Over the course of a few weeks he meets Logan many more times, their conversations become more relaxed too; some impromptu, but most ending with a “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Remus finds he likes Logan, he’s funny and blunt and always looks like he’s amused with the two other men in his company. He’s very soft-hearted too although he pretends he isn’t, one particular moment included Patton stubbing his toe and the other man appearing seemingly out of thin air with a very panicked expression to ask him if he’s okay. 

And yeah, those two are _definitely_ married, you’d think being dead would be one less reason to bicker with someone but once they start they don’t stop. Remus just watches them lovingly, throwing popcorn into his mouth as the two argue about whatever it is they feel like arguing about. They don’t shout at each other, it’s just a lot of frantic gesturing and Patton’s high-pitched ‘arguing’ voice which gets progressively higher the more the conversation develops. It usually ends with them both laughing. 

Remus likes Logan, he likes him a lot. Way more than he probably _should_. He doesn’t bring that up and he’s not entirely sure he should so he just keeps quiet on the matter, and just allows himself to be a third party to the strangest marriage he’s ever witnessed in his life. Not just because Logan isn’t actually alive, but also the fact that they never seem to get angry with each other. They argue, they have their discourse, but it is abundantly clear that the two don’t really have the capacity to be _truly_ angry at each other. Remus doesn’t know if they were always like that or whether it was the fact they’d already lost each other once. 

He gets used to Logan’s company, if nothing else. 

-

It’s a Saturday evening, Remus had come into the house with his dark hair curling from the rain, his black shirt clinging to his skin and his already skinny jeans practically a second layer. He’d walked all the way from work and the pour down had hit half the way along. When he steps through into the home, pushing his hair from his eyes and unsticking it from his flushed cheeks, Patton almost immediately comes to say hello. 

Except he takes one look at Remus, soaked to the bone, tuts and grabs his shaking hands in his own, tugging him upstairs fretting over him catching a cold. The smaller man can’t find it in him to be anything but endeared as he peels his shirt from his skin and stands barechested in the other man’s bedroom, waiting for him to hand him some clean clothes. He sets his shirt down on the radiator, unbuttoning his jeans with a wince as the cold material clings to his skin. 

The blond turns around halfway through a sentence but it dies on his tongue, his eyes running over the other man’s bare chest tantalisingly slow. Remus quirks an eyebrow at the sudden absence of words that had been falling at a hundred miles an hour from the other man’s mouth. “Uh...Pat?” he asks, waving a hand to snap the other man out of his reverie. Patton’s freckled cheeks flush and he opens his mouth once, twice, his gaze flickering between the smaller man’s chest and then down, to his open jeans. 

Then he tries to speak but his words come out more of a squeak. Remus gives him an amused look, stepping a little closer, Patton doesn’t step back, but the shirt in his hand flutters from his grasp onto the floor. The smaller man takes his hand in his, leaning upon his tiptoes to kiss his flustered partner, his fingertips brushing up his arm in a featherlight touch that elicits a gentle shiver. 

Remus grins a little and steps closer, their bodies pressing together as his lips trail to Patton’s neck in open-mouthed, extremely slow kisses, his tongue brushing against the skin. He feels the breath the other man lets out, head tilting to the side to let him do as he pleases, dragging the skin between his teeth to pull out a moan from Patton’s mouth with the movement. Patton’s hands tremble as they rest on his hips, his skin flushed and body practically radiating heat. 

“Been a while?” Remus mutters against the other man’s neck, nuzzling his nose against the flushed skin. 

“Could say that,” is the almost choked response he manages to get. The sensation the sound of his voice gives his lover has him backing the much larger man up against the wall and pressing their lips together. Patton’s hands grip his hips firmly, lips parting as he leans down into it, Remus’ hand snaking to the back of his neck to grip the blond curls firmly. The taller man rocks his hips shallowly into Remus’, who responds in kind and with a short groan, their tongues meeting in the kiss and capturing the little sounds exchanged between the two of them. 

Patton pushes a little, leading Remus backwards towards the bed, but he switches their positions and sits down on the edge, letting the other man straddle his lap; a hand to his shoulder to push him down against the mattress. Remus has a habit for making him feel much smaller and more delicate than he usually feels, maybe it’s because of his constant urge to control a situation; Remus only likes to be out of control on his own terms and well, _anyone_ can understand that feeling to be natural. 

Remus hands find his own and hold them down against the mattress, his eyes fiery and determined as he rocks his hips down, the two of them finding soft breaths of air escaping them in quick pants. His body feels like electricity, he feels powerful with Patton underneath him. He groans out the other’s name as their cocks harden in the confines of their pants, except of course that Remus’ jeans are unbuttoned and for the most part there’s just his thin layer of underwear acting as a barricade. 

He doesn’t really want to stop though, not long enough to get out of these clothes, his body feels so warm and the desperation he’d barely noticed that he’d had was fuelling him like nothing else ever could. 

Which is great until he hears a soft _“oh,”_ and his head snaps to the side to see a rather flustered Logan stood there with his eyes wide. Patton tilts his head to the side with a look torn between embarrassed and concerned, but Logan is not upset he’d walked into this at all, his eyes trailing down their bodies before he clears his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude I can’t...always control it.” 

Remus snorts a little, kneeling up so he’s sitting on Patton’s thighs, his eyes study Logan, dark and considering with this desire that he can’t shake. “Can you fuck a ghost?” he wonders aloud. 

“Yes,” both Patton and Logan reply with an eerie similarity and in perfect sync. ‘_Husbands,’_ Remus thinks with an internal role of his eyes, _‘practically one in almost any way that matters.’ _

“Then what are you still standing there for old man?” Logan makes a noise in response that is highly undignified but wastes almost no time clambering over to them, sitting down on the bed with a flush to his cheeks that is so unnatural to witness. Remus leans over to kiss him slowly, warmly, shuffling in his position to rock his ass down against Patton’s half-hard length. The other man moans softly underneath him, one hand on Remus’ hip whilst the other finds Logan’s fingertips. 

Patton’s eyes study the two of them as they kiss, lips parting, heads tilting, pulling back and then pulling in again like they can’t get enough. He could watch that all day, grinding up against Remus with as much force as he can without disturbing the other man’s position. Logan’s hand squeezes his own and then untangles, his hand drifting curiously down Remus’ stomach, cataloguing the shiver it brings. Then the palm of his hand (still, so warm, too warm for a man that is dead) presses to his cock through the underwear, almost massaging it to full hardness with slow and teasing movements. He swallows the moan the younger man gives in response, enjoying the way his hips jerked into the touch. 

Then the kiss breaks, with one panting a little and the other having no need to breathe at all, but he does anyway, or he mimics the movements that he had done his entire life. 

“How are we doing this?” Remus asks, one of his hands coming to rest over the one on his hip, fingertips ghosting Patton’s knuckles whilst the other has a desperate need to just touch Logan, sliding up the forearm that is tense from the movements to Remus’ cock. “What does everyone want?” 

“I...usually...receive,” Logan utters, looking the most flustered Remus has ever seen him. ‘_How on earth did these two men manage when it was just each other? They’re both so shy...well that just won’t do at **all.**’_

“I really want to eat someone out,” Patton blurts out softly, his cheeks reaching perhaps the maximum level of red they could manage to be. “I-If that’s okay?” 

“That’s fine by me,” Remus grins, sliding off of his boyfriend for a moment. Two sets of eyes watch him as he peels his still damp jeans off of his legs, his cock straining through his boxers in a way that has Logan’s entire attention. Patton leans up to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it to the floor. Logan follows suit, but his eyes barely refuse to leave Remus, and the younger man is adoring the attention as he drops his underwear down to his ankles and steps out of them. 

The noise that comes out of the ghost’s mouth is practically a whimper, shuffling to the edge of the bed and tugging Remus closer by the hips, barely pausing for a breath as he takes the other man’s cock straight down his throat. The other man threads his hands through Logan’s hair with a loud moan, his hips thrusting gently into the sensation. There’s no gagging, and although Logan is warm his mouth is not as wet as Remus is used too, like he’s forcing himself to salivate but hasn’t quite nailed it. 

Patton makes a small noise behind them, watching as he finishes undressing, stroking his own cock with interest. Logan’s eyes meet Remus’ and the other man slams his hips forward with more force, which both of his partners seem to enjoy. He draws his cock out of Logan’s mouth, leaning down to undo his belt, his hand pressing to the other man’s cock with his wrist as he does so. He feels it twitch a little. 

If Logan is dead, how does he have a blood flow? Or can he just do anything with his not-body now? 

He doesn’t linger on that for too long as he helps the other man out of his trousers and then lets him clamber into Patton’s lap like he’s never been more eager. The mostly calm and collected Logan unravels in front of him, desperate to be fucked. Or maybe he just yearns for the connection. Maybe it’s what makes him feel alive even though he’s not. 

Remus watches with interest and wide eyes as Patton grabs lube out of the bedside cabinet, half hanging off the bed momentarily to do so. Logan lifts his hips a little to let his husband lube up his cock, but he doesn’t wait for his own preparation. He sinks down slowly on the other man, his head bowed and lips parted with his eyes closed as he takes the stretch without complaint. 

Perhaps he really _can_ do anything with his afterlife incarnation of a body, then. 

Remus is snapped out of his reverie by Patton reaching out towards him, not quite articulating what he wants but with a pleading expression on his face. The smaller man crawls onto the bed, facing Logan as he straddles their partner’s face. Remus leans forward to capture Logan’s lips again, moaning softly as Patton’s tongue runs over his entrance, before pressing at the ring of muscle with some form of enthusiasm. Remus’ hand reaches out for Logan, his nails lightly drifting down over the other man’s torso before bumping against his hard cock, jerking him in time to the little thrusts of Patton’s hips. 

Logan makes a lot of noise. He gasps and moans and whimpers, his whole body expressive with his pleasure, thighs tense from the way he moves along the cock pressed into him and the hand around his hard length. The man underneath them moans into Remus’ skin, spit clinging to his lips and chin, clearly enjoying the position he’s in, hands spreading the youngest’s cheeks as he tastes as much of him as possible.

“Pat…” Remus whines lightly “...can you...more?” He’s aware he’s mildly incoherent but the elder man squeezes his ass cheeks firmly, resulting in a loud gasp. The youngest shuffles a little to straddle Patton’s upper stomach, waiting for a moment until he hears the sound of the lube cap being clicked open, followed shortly by a finger pressing inside of him. Remus rests his head against Logan’s shoulder, still jerking the other off, except now the other man is in reaching distance to return the favour, whilst Patton works them both open with his cock and hands. 

Logan’s free hand comes up to Remus’ head, tugging lightly at his hair to manoeuvre their lips together in a messy kiss, both of them panting into each other’s mouths, despite that Remus doesn’t feel any air ghost the other’s lips, just the heaving noise as though his body is acting on muscle memory alone. 

“Re, Pat…” He whimpers out, followed by a gasped moan, the hand gripping the back of Remus’ neck tightens, his whole body twitching as Patton slams up into him particularly hard. Remus leans back a little to watch the other man’s face screw up with concentration, his own movements speeding up as nails rake through his own sensitive skin. Logan’s hips stutter and his thighs shake as he moans out the other men’s names amongst a string of curses, his body slumping forward as his cock twitches. 

The ghost rests his head against Remus’ shoulder, his eyes closing for a moment as his energy drains. He leans up and bows his head, looking exhausted as he lifts himself up off of Patton’s cock. “Your turn,” he mutters to Remus, before flopping back on the bed. The younger man does not need telling twice as Patton eases his fingers out of him and lets him move, facing him this time, to take his cock in with one quick movement. 

The taller man groans at the feeling, his hand finding Logan’s as they both watch Remus bounce on the blond’s cock. Remus wraps a hand around himself, pleasuring himself as he lets Patton fuck up into him, his own hips meeting the other man’s thrusts with far more energy than Logan could have. The ghost in question is actually a little impressed, where did he get that stamina from? 

His eyes trail over Remus’ lithe body, watching his hips move and his muscles tense as their partner’s cock presses into him over and over. He wishes they’d done this whilst he was still alive, where the chances that he’d get to wake up next to both of them the next day were still there. There’s not much use wishing for what isn’t going to happen though, no matter how much he could plead with any unknown deity for it. 

Instead he just marvels the way Remus’ body moves, and the expression on his face, and then to Patton’s softer moans, and curls up next to his husband, kissing and nipping at his neck to spur him on. 

Remus comes first, rocking his hips as his noises, gasped and strained, rip from his throat without a second of embarrassment, come leaking over his hand and his boyfriend’s stomach. He clenches around Patton, urging him on without relent, until the other man arches just a little underneath him, releasing into his partner with a growled utter of both of their names. 

The smaller man leans down to kiss Patton softly, his lips pulled into a tired grin, before he leans to do the same with Logan, easing his aching body over onto the bed. They all just lie there for a moment, two of them catching their breath whilst the other lost his a long time ago. Then Patton giggles softly, his hand coming up over his mouth. 

“What’s funny?” Remus asks with a smile on his lips, lifting his head to look over Logan’s body, the ghost in question quirks his eyebrow and pulls his lips into an amused expression. 

“I had a threesome with my dead husband and my twenty-three year old boyfriend life isn’t getting _any_ weirder than this.” Logan snorts a little, his hand coming up to play with Patton’s hair, the youngest curls up to Logan’s side, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and intertwining their fingertips. 

“Good weird?” he asks.   
“Amazing weird,” Patton replies, lying on his side, paying no mind to the come and sweat sticking to his soft and freckles skin. “Wonderful, even.” Logan says nothing, he just smiles, lying between them and staring up at the ceiling as he adjusts to the warm bodies surrounding him. “We should shower,” 

“I don’t want to move,” Remus whines. 

“Yet, you will complain about having dried come in your ass.” The bemused smile doesn’t waver from the dead man’s lips. “So go and shower.” 

“You’re coming with us,” the brunet grins, sitting up and dragging Logan up by his hands, earning a little squeak of surprise from the elder man. “Come on old man,”

“I’m not that old!” 

“Aren’t you like thirty now?” 

“I’m dead Remus, I stopped aging a long time ago.” 

Patton shakes his head at the two, easing his body up and just watching as Remus’ hands snake around their partner’s waist, lifting him up and twirling around. The two continue their bickering amongst little giggles. He wishes they could have this all the time, all day and every day. Some part of him worries that one day they’re going to wake up and Logan won’t be there at all anymore, and it’s selfish to want someone to mourn that with him, it might’ve been selfish to drag Remus into this at all. He’s never known loss like that before, and one day they might have too. 

For now though, he just surveys the look of happiness on their faces and the little kisses the younger man offers his partner to silence his complaints. The sort of completeness the feeling brings should not be tainted by a misery that is yet to come. 


	7. The Siren's Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan doesn’t usually make a habit of conversing with Sirens. Trans!Logan. Siren!Janus.

Logan is exhausted and the sun is scorching in the summer air. He drops his bag on the grit and sand of the waterside to an isolated lake. He’s so far from anybody and everything he knows if he were to drown he’d been screaming to nothing but the trees for help. _Luckily_, he’s a good swimmer. 

He sits down in the dirt to untie his boots, easing them off his feet with a grunt relief as the heaviness is revoked from his body. His socks join them, stuffed inside them without much ceremony. For a moment he just breathes, feeling the sand against his skin as he tilts his face towards the rays of unforgiving light, eyes closed and enjoying the silence. 

Then he leans up to tug his shirt over his head, folding it and resting it on top of his bag. The sunlight cards over his skin with something relieving, as well as torturous. Then he stands to unfasten his belt and slide his leather pants down his legs, folding these too and resting them atop the pile. 

His life is sometimes like this. He likes to travel, so many curiosities in the world for him to seek. A man like him finds it hard to settle absolutely anywhere or with anyone. This endless yearning to never sit still is greater than any desire for roots and attachment. 

His underwear joins the pile before he wades out into the cool water, his feet kicking up as he lies back, enjoying the soothing effect. The relief from the boiling sunlight is bordering on cathartic as he feels his sore body relax into the water. 

After a moment, he rights himself, his feet landing on the lake bank as he swims back to sit in shallow waters. Logan gazes out at the vast expanse of the lake and the endless trees for miles, glad to just exist and be in this space before he figures out where he’s supposed to go next. 

As he’s lost in thought he notices a ripple in the surface of the water, eyebrows furrowing, he focuses on the spot. For a moment, he considers it a trick of the light, then the water dips like something is moving through it and he considers reaching for a knife. But his heroics falter when what emerges from the water is, in fact, a head, a face. 

He’s never seen a siren in a lake before. Hasn’t really seen one up close in general, given the whole status of being alive. His automatic reaction is to scramble back up to the sea bank, but something hinders him, an emotion deep in his chest. Not fear, but something in the honey gold eyes that stare at him as the creature stands out of the water and it rolls off of his scales-speckled skin. 

“Aren’t you a curious thing?” The creature speaks, his voice like warm whiskey as he talks, wandering closer and closer to Logan. “Come closer.” He doesn’t at all understand how he is in the_ slightest_ bit curious, he’s always considered himself so ordinary that this fact alone is extraordinary. “I don’t bite, you know.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Logan takes a deep breath in, unmoving. “There’s nothing I crave, siren.” 

“Everyone craves something, gold, sex, food and water,” he kneels on the bank, Logan drags his body further away. “You are not above yearning, no matter how coldly you wish to present yourself.” His hand falls to Logan’s knee, nails dragging over the skin. “You haven’t run yet, what is that? Curiosity? Loneliness?” 

“Indifference.” 

“Dangerous,” the creature grins, sharp teeth striking some casual terror in Logan’s heart. “I like that, but I can feel your heart racing.” Logan exhales shakily as a hand wraps around his throat in a quick motion, it does not squeeze, just rests, his pulse beating weakly under the touch. “You’re scared, but you’re enjoying it aren’t you?” The hand leaves his neck and trails over Logan’s collarbone in a featherlight touch. 

“Do you have a name?” 

“_That’s_ the question you want to lead with?” The siren shakes his head, an amused laugh on his lips. “Janus, my name is Janus.” Janus leans over Logan, the human leaning back on his hands as the other man presses his knees into the space between his thighs. “Do you have a name, pretty traveller?” 

“Logan.” He feels it’s a mistake to tell the truth, his voice whispered above the sound of the birds and the trees, yet he does so without hesitation. Janus grins his sharp grin, delicate hand tilting Logan’s chin up to face him without room for avoidance. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Logan.” He resists a shiver under the vertical pupils of golden eyes, but that resistance becomes inconsequential when the siren leans down and presses their lips together firmly. This is a terrible idea, a trick surely, but his lips part wantonly for a forked tongue to slide into his mouth, and Logan can’t think at all. A soft sound forms in his throat and he leans closer, hands coming up to touch the creature's skin. It’s smooth, slippery, some of it like his own and the rest like a fish. 

The kiss parts and Logan finds his head tilted back as sharp teeth graze the skin pulled tight over his jugular. He takes a deep, fearful but undoubtedly heated breath in as the sharp points press to his neck. But the fear is satiated when the movement turns into a kiss, open-mouthed and sucking at his skin. A rush of blood curls through the human at a dizzying rate, barely able to right his own thoughts before the siren is slipping down his body. “Are you going to kill me?” He wonders aloud. 

“You’re far too pretty for that,” Janus replies, amused, before his head delves under the water, hands trailing down Logan’s parted thighs. He can breathe underwater, Logan remembers, before a forked tongue reaches his clit. A gasped moan escapes him, arms trembling under the weight of his own body. 

The siren works over him easily, like it’s something he’s done a million times, and he probably has. Logan’s hips shift into the touch, nails digging into the waterbed below him as his head leans back, desperately trying to catch his breath. 

He comes apart easier than he ever has in his life, body tensing and jerking into Janus’ mouth. He can feel the presence of his sharp teeth and something about the way the slight fear wraps around his adrenaline pushes the hardest orgasm he’s ever had. His chest heaves with his breaths as the creature resurfaces. “I get the feeling that didn’t come for free?” Logan whispers, breathless. 

“My turn,” the siren replies simply, crawling up the human’s body. Logan accepts the kiss shakily, feeling somewhat weaker than usual. He trembles as he’s pulled up off the ground, sort of thankful for the reprieve away from stones digging into his bare skin. Then he finds himself in Janus’ lap, a little dizzy from the fast movement. Somewhere he has a protest to make as his arms wrap around the back of the other man’s neck to steady himself and their bodies pressed together. 

He inhales sharply as hands grip his hips and force him down, his clit still sensitive as his grinds against the creature beneath him, feeling his cock press between his thighs. Logan takes a shaky breath in, wanting to protest in some way, but suddenly overwhelmingly desperate to have Janus press inside him. His sense of logic and reasoning melting away at the edges as some insatiable heat rolls through his body. 

He leans down to press their lips together, water rolling down their bodies, cooling them in the unforgiving heat of the sun. Janus guides his cock into Logan, the stretch making the man whimper slightly against the other’s lips. “Pretty,” the siren whispers against his lips, Logan’s breath hitching in response. “Perhaps the prettiest I’ve ever had.” The hands return to his hips once more, nails digging in against lukewarm skin as he’s guided in the roll of his own hips. 

The siren doesn’t do slowly, admiring the hint of pleasurable pain on Logan’s face as their hips meet in a series of sharp thrusts. Their kiss dissolves into resting against each other, panting, Logan’s moans ghosting Janus’ lips. Each sharp thrust pulls another sound out of him, a slight ache of being fucked into so sharply after so long being alone mirrored in Logan’s expression. 

He’s never considered himself particularly masochistic, but that opinion is changing as Janus’ teeth sink against his lips so hard he feels a layer of skin crack under the pressure. Suddenly he doesn’t mind pain at all, feeling his muscles twitch with the sound of his own broken moan. 

Logan accepts another kiss that is mouthed around a growl from Janus’ lips. The creature wraps an arm around him and flips them around, floating nearer to shallow water. Stones and sand stick into Logan’s skin, and he’s aware his body is going to be all different kinds of scratched up after this. 

He takes a deep breath in as water blocks out his hearing, but travels no further than his ears. His legs draw up near his chest almost instinctively, and Janus leans over him to slam his hips forward even harder. Logan’s heart skips a beat in his chest, whimpering at the ferocity, the movements bruising and animalistic. Somewhere amongst the pain and arousal he wonders how he’d gone his entire life without this. 

Stones scratch his skin, Janus’ nails dig into him hard enough to draw blood, and the cock stretching him open at a near-brutal pace seems to knock all the lungs out of the human’s body. He feels dizzy from the claustrophobia of so many sensations, logically he should be distressed, but in reality he can feel the tight knot of a second orgasm tightening in his stomach. Janus presses forward, dragging casual whimpers from him; then he leans down to kiss Logan hard, his hips snapping forward as a loud, possessive sound pulls from his lips. 

Some desire to please someone seems to knock Logan off the edge. He feels Janus’ cock twitch inside him, spilling into him, and his own body tenses in an overwhelming crash, moaning and whimpering. 

They both still, panting, Janus’ body resting comfortably, like a guardian, on top of Logan’s. The human peels open his eyes to stare up with a wince at the bright sunlight, his whole body feels like it’s been hit by a truck. The siren pulls his body up and eases out of the breathless human, sitting down in the water with a grin. “You needed that.” It’s not a question. 

“Are you going to eat me or something?” 

“That would be highly uncivilised.” Logan laughs despite himself, dragging himself up to sit. “Sirens don’t always kill people, you know? I’ve never killed a person, and I never will, well, unless they try to kill me first, and I don’t eat humans...I’ve never met a siren that eats humans.”

“So then...why?” 

“Why do humans go to bars, drink themselves into memory loss and sleep with the nearest attractive person in one night?” 

“Fair point.” Logan runs a hand through his wet hair, thanking the water as it soothes his skin. 

“Would you like me to stay around for a while? You’re pretty, and don’t appear to be going anywhere fast.” Logan grins, a slight flush crawling up his skin as he stares down at his own bare legs. 

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.”


	8. Strangeness makes best company with more strangeness: Patceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton has always known he's different, not quite human, the sprouting flowers situation is sort of a big giveaway. For most of his life he's been alone in that, until he meets someone else not-quite human and finds they have quite the connection.

Patton’s always been perceived as a little odd. His ears are a little too pointed, his eyes a little  too bright, and his smile just a little  too kind. He’s always been oddly emotional as well, surging in bouts of melancholia and euphoria like a twisting tornado of the heart. Still, not a single person has ever described him as less than a delight to be around, if not overly prone to bursting into tears at intervals, however, many  would  describe him as strange.

And he’s always been rather okay with that, being an oddity is just fine by him, he loves his friends and his family and tries to bring gifts of joy to everyone he meets. Oh, and occasionally he sprouts flowers, that one is definitely odd. It wasn’t much of a surprise when he was sat down and told he was only half-human. “Not a changeling,” his mother had clarified “...but half-human, half-faery.”

The blooming roses situation was already a little bit of a giveaway if he’s honest. Although that temporarily raised a lot of questions about his biological parentage, he didn’t have much of a desire to enquire on the matter. Otherwise, Patton was utterly ordinary, he struggled with maths and science, he loved art and philosophy and writing, and like every other child, he made friends, lost them, got his heart broken. In that sense, he is  wholly human.

After he finished high school, he moved in with his best friend, Roman, who is both physically and emotionally human, and recovering from heartbreak of his own at this time. They decided to study part-time in college and this is where the story starts, well, firstly it starts in a coffee shop.

It's important to know that Patton has always felt a distinct sense of loneliness in being himself. His friends are loving, his family was a little fractured but he’d never felt incomplete for it. It's not that he is unloved, it's that being the only magical creature in school has its downsides. No one ever outwardly harmed him or even insulted him, but there was always a presence of sadness in how people looked at him.

He’d never met someone like him before. Until he does.

Working in a cafe has its ups and downs, he’s not making his millions but he sure enjoys entertaining people and  loves the conversation, not even rush hour is intimidating to him. The evening is his favourite, the shop doesn’t shut until 10pm and the quiet stream of late-night clients tapping away on computers and sipping coffee brings him a sense of peace. Small lilies blossom on the back of his hands.

The sound of the door opening has him looking up from the coffee machine that’s pouring his own coffee, he intends to glance, words already on his lips, but it falls flat as his eyes meet another’s. And though he’s the sort of romantic who programs details as small as the colour of someone’s eyes into his mind, he doubts anyone could miss the golden irises of this man’s eyes. Or the trail of green and yellow scales over the side of his face. “Are you…?” He trails off, breath catching in his throat. The man swallows nervously, lips pulling into a small frown. “Sorry, you’re  beautiful , sorry I shouldn’t have said that either , I...uh... order ,  right yes, what...what do you want to drink?”

The stranger quirks his eyebrow, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as the human half of his face flushes in a gentle blush. “Chai Latte please...and one of those croissants.” His voice is so deep that Patton has to resist the urge to shiver. He seems gently amused by the fact the other man’s hands are trembling, moving to push a cup under the coffee machine. Vines curl a little around his arms protectively, and the man with the snakeskin finally puts two and two together.

“Changeling?” He asks.

“Sort of, an experiment between whether humans and faeries can co-create.” He chuckles, placing the coffee down as fast as he can because he’s scared he’s going to drop it. A blush rises over his freckled cheeks, flustered and so very clearly so. “The answer is yes, and you?” He moves the croissant onto a plate, wandering over to the oven.

“It’s complicated,” he gives a small smile, leaning against the counter. “Have you ever met another fae before?”

“No,” the oven door falls shut a little harder than he means to let it. The clang echos through the room, making him wince. "Sorry, I haven't, you're the first," he rests his hand against the handle of the oven, waiting for the timer to ping. "I'm a little jumpy, I've...been alone in that sense for so long for a while I thought I was the only one." The oven timer goes off and he pulls open the door to slide the plate onto the counter. "Do you...have a name?" The stranger raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk on his lips. Patton blushes just a little harder.

"Janus." He slides his wallet out of his pocket, reminding the barista that he does in fact have a job to do. He slides over to the counter, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as he taps at the screen of the till. "So...do you have anything to do after this?" The man leans against the counter, surveying Patton with an expression that could only be described as coy. He's not sure he could be more flustered but his voice catches in his throat before he can remotely think to formulate a response. And his inability to flirt keeps him silent.

"No," he finally blurts out.

"Would you like something to do?" Patton's eyes meet Janus', one eyebrow quirking just a little bit as his eyes drag over the near stranger's face, his breath coming out shakier than he'd expected. The taller man gets the gist, a grin breaking out across his face as he brings the coffee cup to his lips with one hand, tapping his card on the reader with the other. Patton is definitely trembling just a little. This man is so alluring that it's almost hypnotising. He wouldn't mind knowing what his lips tasted like.

"Patton," he clears his throat, straightening himself up and out of his daydream. "My name is Patton, and yes, I would like something to do." Janus' lips quirk into a small grin, leaning up off the counter. "I finish at 10," he can feel his throat closing up with both anxiety and excitement, voice barely above whisper level.

The two continue to talk, discussing the lives they'd lived although Janus is awfully silent on much of his own history. Patton doesn't mind that, he can fill any silence, he has enough words to do so. And Janus stares at him with this endeared expression that makes him feel like he's floating, or dreaming, or maybe both at the same time. Nobody has ever looked at him like that, or at least nobody but Roman, who fundamentally doesn't count because as the best friend it is his duty to do so.

The time passes so quickly with their conversations that when his watch beeps with the time, he realises they've run out of it. He smiles, announcing that the cafe is closing, moving Janus' (and his own) collection of cups and plates into the dishwasher. People begin to file out, some placing coffee cups on the side, some uttering tired thanks. When the door closes, Patton locks it with a quiet sigh. "I need to clean up," he gives a small smile.

"Need a hand?" The smaller man hesitates a moment, before nodding shyly. Janus begins to help pass him plates, before picking up the brush on the side.

"You don't have to," Patton pipes up, turning on the dishwasher and grabbing a cloth.

"No, but you're the prettiest man I've ever seen and I'm keen to sweeten the deal a little," he winks, and Patton wants to fall through the ground. "Besides, I enjoy cleaning." He brushes crumbs into a pile, before reaching for the dustpan. Patton shakes his head, but he's smiling wider than he thinks he's ever smiled. The two fall into a silent rhythm until both are finished with self-assigned chores.

"You're being awfully nice to me for a stranger."

"Odd tends to fit best with odd in the human world." Patton hangs up his apron, his curls missed from his long day, he slides his glasses up his nose as he pushes open the door.

"Well I'm certainly odd," he grabs his bag from the inside of the backroom with his jacket, stepping back out. "So what now?" Janus smiles, leaning over the counter with a look in his eyes that is almost hypnotising. Patton lets go of the door but it somehow still startles him when it thuds shut. He steps towards Janus, both on either side of the counter, Patton's hands rest against the grainy surface.

"What would you like to do?" The silence hovers between them, and Patton has never felt desperation before, not in this sense. Yes, he's fallen in love before, but the infatuation of his previous relationships seems far too innocent to be compared to the way his lips meet Janus' with a burning forcefulness. Their lips part and a flicker of a forked tongue meets his own, and warmth twists around his spine enough for a sound he's very rarely made to leave his lungs. They part, lips slicked with spit and the skin available flushed. "I suppose that answers that question," he leans back a little, lips pulled into a smile that is neither cocky nor shy but distinctively makes Patton feel like he's starving.

"I usually take things slowly but…"

"But…?" Silence envelopes the squirming Patton, his blush deepening. "If you want we can take things slow, I can take you on a date, have a milkshake, some ice cream?" Patton bites his lip as he smiles, the intense longing in his chest somehow increasing with the man's offer.

"Maybe later," he whispers. Janus raises his eyebrows.

"I was serious you don't have to…"

"I know," Patton leans forward so that their lips brush. "But I'm lonely and you feel familiar." Janus sucks in a breath he hardly knows how to control, and he presses their lips together a little more firmly, just for a moment. "So I guess what I'd like to do tonight is…" he trails off, swallowing his own words.

"Me?" Janus asks, grinning. Patton makes a soft noise, pulling back to bury his red face in his hands, which are gently pried away just so he can be admired. "Come on then, and then milkshake, I'll even order in just for you." The barista fumbles with his keys as they both step towards the door. He's wondering if he's really going to go through with this, with a stranger no less, that is not a thing he has achieved before. But Janus doesn't feel like a stranger, he feels like a secret hope he's had his entire life and the warmth of understanding, the realisation that he is not alone at all. Not alone in the physical or emotional sense, but Patton has always been an oddity, and Janus does not make him feel less odd, but he does make him feel like his oddness has company. Like two flames conjoined to light a large candle.

His nervousness must show as their fingers entangle, the streets dark and blurred around him. He feels terrified and exhilarated, and by the way his blood rushes from simple contact, bordering on  desperate for this. He glances up at the scales that catch in the moonlight, and small flowers grow in clusters behind his own ears. When neither of them speaks, he realises he can feel Janus' nervousness too.

The streets wind around them until they're pulling to stop outside a flat, Janus' keys already in his hand. They untangle as he opens the door, holding it open for Patton. "You can still say no, you know," he hangs up his own coat. "...you're shaking," and he is, and he seems to tremble further as gentle hands land on his arms. His coat and bag slips from his grasp as he leans up to kiss Janus again, slowly, deeply, stepping closer and letting the hands slide to the small of his back, their bodies fitting together almost perfectly. He sighs into the kiss, taking a deeper breath in, his hand tangling in the other man's hair, his body arching and leaning into the warming touch.

Patton's hands move down to the other man's battered jacket, fingers wrapping around the material before he finally dares to push it off his shoulders. The touch disappears from his back as the jacket hits the floor, he doesn't remotely want to stop kissing the other man as he presses to him again.

Hands intertwine with his own, tugging his body forward as a surge of air passes through him, Janus stumbles backwards up the stairs, savouring Patton's giggle as he lands against the wooden surface. The giggle dies as Janus grins up at him from where he's sat, leaning forward to press a kiss to the other man's stomach, his hands catching the hem of his sweater. Patton's breathing stutters, a soft sound strangled at the back of his throat.

Janus leans back as his hand slides underneath the sweater, watching Patton's eyes flutter shut at the mere sensation of physical touch. "You're so pretty," he mutters, tugging the sweater up to press his lips just below his navel, forked tongue prying out to flick against his skin, before he sucks, working against his lower stomach. The other man whimpers quietly, tugging his sweater over his head, curls even more mussed as he stares down with a half unreadable expression that most definitely conveys desire. Janus doesn't waver, hand traversing up Patton's chest to pinch at his nipple. The grip on the banister becomes white-knuckled, and the poor flower-adorned man gripping it looks ready to collapse under the sensation he's being offered.

But then Janus stands, gripping a careful hand in his own as he leads the way up the remaining steps and to his bedroom. "Don't worry, my flatmate is away for a week," he gestures to the room opposite his own. "You can make as much noise as you like." Patton presses the taller man up against the closed door, hands tugging at his shirt until they can break apart long enough to discard it. Janus' hands find his waist, pushing him back towards the bed, Patton is just a little infatuated by the scales on his chest, waist and hip, a near entrancing appearance to hold. Their bodies meet in a collision strong enough to wind but only internally because Janus is not forceful but Patton is  utterly  out of breath.

His hands find Janus' belt buckle, fumbling with the piece of metal as his companion undoes his jeans with one hand without remotely breaking a sweat. The hardening weight of their bodies collides once more, hips first, rocking into each other with mixed sounds of intense relief. Patton's thighs tense around the body holding him in place, feeling utterly out of his own control and thoroughly enjoying the sensation. Their lips move against one another's between stuttered moans of restricted air and low intense pleasure. Neither particularly wants to break apart, Janus' hips grinding down smoothly, but they both need to in order to get anywhere near where they want.

Patton’s hands reach for the other man even as he pulled back, face twisted in a silent whimper as he  aches to be touched. “Adorable,” is the response he gets, with an expression too fond for near-strangers. Janus leans down to press his lips to the other man’s chest, sucking at his skin as his hands drift up to his sides. The sensation of Patton’s body leaning up into the touch with a smooth, deep breath, is somewhat wonderful for Janus. The other man is small but hardly fragile, and the shaky breath he pulls instates a movement of power into the man holding his body like he’s something more delicate than he is.

Janus’ lips trail down to his soft stomach, one hand drifting to tease at one of Patton’s nipples between his thumb and finger, rolling it between them with a little pinch that stutters Patton’s hips up against his body. He grins at the movement, dragging the skin just below his navel between his teeth. His other hand falls down to Patton’s hip, squeezing gently, before drifting inward to cup the bulge in the other man’s underwear. A gentle moan hitched in his lungs, hips rocking into the touch. Janus lifts his head, trailing his other hand down his chest down to the waistband of his jeans. He takes a small moment to admire the flowers blooming in the curls of Patton’s hair and stems that wrap around his arms. He’s like a personal,  beautiful garden.

With that thought he tugs the jeans down his thighs and off his body, letting them fall to the floor. Janus makes a soft noise at the back of his throat, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as he stares down at the man beneath him. Patton flushes at the expression, looking up at the man above him.

“How anyone hasn’t scooped you up already is beyond me,” Janus leans down, lying on his stomach, his hands sliding underneath his thighs to gently squeeze his ass. His mouth presses to his clothed cock, mouthing along it. Patton moans quietly, his hand wrapping through the blond strands of the other man’s hair, his hips shifting slightly up against him as his head falls almost lax into the bed. Janus’ hands find the hem of his boxers, Patton lifts his hips to let him tug them down his thighs, the other man can’t even resist taking his cock into his mouth the moment he has access. He tugs the boxers down to his shins, ducking his head to take him down his throat.

The smaller man squirms beneath him, a quiet whimper pulling from his mouth as his hand grips at Janus’ hair a little too tightly. But the other man doesn’t mind in the slightest, uttering a moan around the cock filling up his moan as he bobs his head, tongue pressing to Patton’s heated skin. He brings one hand up to grip the base of his cock, moving his mouth up to the head, jerking him off into his mouth. “Jan...Jan...ah...th-this is going t-to be ov…” his breath hitches a little “...er fast.”

Janus pulls his head up with a grin. “That’s alright, sweetheart, you just enjoy yourself.” Patton manages a small nod, blushing all the way down to the soft white flowers in tiny clusters beneath his collarbones. He resists the urge to tremble beneath the movement of the other man’s hand but he’s shaking. Janus wraps his mouth around him again, keeping a firm rhythm that has Patton seeing the edge but unable to entirely fall over it. Gentle whimpers and whines fill the room, half-silenced by the way he bites down on his lower lip to try and stop himself from making too much noise.

But then he dissolves, the hand not knotted in Janus’ hair finds itself white-knuckled in the sheets as all the attempts at keeping silent fall null in favour of desperate moans echoing off the walls. Janus just about makes out his own name as cum lands at the back of his tongue, forcing him to swallow by reflex. He doesn’t mind the fact Patton’s hips jolt into his mouth, a little too lost as he admires the arch to the other man’s spine through his eyelashes.

When the other is doing not much more than shaking, small sounds of discomfort pushing past his lips, Janus finally leans up, swallowing what remains and wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. He smiles warmly down at Patton, who takes a moment to adjust to the room around him. “You sure do bloom,” Janus mutters, eying a new decoration wrapping itself around the bedposts. “I didn’t know you could affect your environment too.”

“Just a little,” Patton sits up, tugging his boxers back up his legs. He has a wonderful grin on his lips and a blush that makes him look positively radiant. “Would you like me to…” he gestures to Janus, who laughs softly under his breath, leaning forward to cup the other man’s jaw in his hand carefully, pressing their lips together in a kiss that could only be described as sweet.

“If you want to.”

“I do,” Patton’s voice is breathier than intended, but he doesn’t argue with his own emotions as he pushes the other man down against the bed.

“I should probably warn you, my biology is not... typical. ”

“I sprout flowers ,” he replies, deadpan and eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, but uh…” Patton’s hands are already tugging his jeans down his legs so Janus just exhales shakily and relaxes. “...The thing is,” the hands return to the waistband of his boxers, looking up for consent “...yeah, I suppose I should just show you.” Patton hums a little, more curious than anything else as he peels back the other man’s boxers, his eyes widening as a soft ‘oh’ ghosts his lips. He bites his lip, an unreadable expression on his face as he discards the boxers to the side. “...so...oh.” Janus’ head falls back against the pillow, his eyes rolling shut because Patton is  not wasting time as he takes the head of one of Janus’ cocks in his mouth, his hand wrapping around the other. “Fuck.”

Patton hums, suppressing a grin given his mouth’s currently occupied status, instead, he bobs his head almost hungrily, the slick sound of his greediness only just audible under Janus’ moans. Okay, so he’s never had a reaction that eager before. Patton pulls back with an ache in his jaw that he ignores, opening his mouth as wide as he can to press both of the cocks past his lips, his hand jerking the cocks where he can’t fit.

Janus has never quite had such an enthusiastic partner before. There have been many times where he’d forgone his own pleasure for insecurity, and others where his partners were too freaked out by his biology to do much about it. He’s had some good intimate moments with others before too, but nothing quite as enticing as the ravenous way Patton seeks to pleasure him.

The desire to try is in itself erotic enough for Janus that his hand thread through the other man’s hair, flower stems wrapping around his fingers like some part of Patton, down to a biological level, doesn’t remotely want him to let go. He keeps his hips still regardless, just about, but his mind already feels a little foggy. Patton’s free hand traces along the scales of his abdomen, all the way up to his ribs. The touch, somehow just as intimate as the mouth around his cocks, blossoms heat at a speed that makes Janus’ head feel like it’s spinning.

Patton does not relent, his jaw and arm aches and he’s unskilled and unpractised but he pushes and pushes himself until all he can make of Janus is a scrambled gasp of moans and the broken syllables of his name. The cum is thick and heavy and chokes him, so he holds his breath as the man beneath him tries not to jerk into his mouth. Some of it dribbles out of Patton’s mouth against the heated skin of Janus’ body, neither seem to have a complaint.

He pulls his head off when the last of the load has filled his mouth, swallowing and wincing at the unusual density. “Good?” He asks hoarsely.

“Amazing,” Janus replies, his eyes closed as he tries to find his breath again. His heart thuds in an erratic rhythm and he presses his hand to the left of his ribcage with a dazed grin and a general appearance of being rather pleased. Patton kneels up, biting his own lip with an inch of shyness that has Janus reaching out to him, tugging him down beside him to kiss him softly, humming at the taste of himself on his tongue mixed with coffee, sugar and what appears to be strawberry lip balm. “Stay,” he mutters. “Maybe it’s the absolutely  mind-blowing things you can do with your mouth, but I like you.”

“You promised me a milkshake,” Patton replies with a blush, taking a deep breath in as he sinks into the sensation of being wanted. Desired. That doesn’t happen to him all that often.

“Let’s get you some food with that too, yeah?” Patton nods, watching Janus tuck himself back into his underwear and reach for his phone.

He doesn’t know where this is going, where it will end if it does, but he texts Roman to let him know he won’t be home tonight, and has a milkshake and pizza with a man he’d only just met that day, but feels like he’s waited his entire life for him. Some romantic part of him has always absently considered soulmates as something that could exist, and at least for this evening, Patton is entirely sure he’s just found his.


End file.
